


The Fair Ones

by nereidee (aurasama)



Category: Amnesia: The Dark Descent
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Folklore, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurasama/pseuds/nereidee
Summary: September, 1839. It was to be Hazel's final wish; Daniel taking her with him to Sweden to inspect burial grounds and runestones for the university. They set out accompanied only by baron Alexander, a benefactor of the university, as their guide. Daniel soon finds out they're unprepared for the dangers lurking in the wilderness – including the enigmatic stranger that rides with them.
Relationships: Alexander of Brennenburg/Daniel, Daniel & Hazel (Amnesia)
Comments: 61
Kudos: 66
Collections: Start Reading





	1. Haunted by the dark

_September 1839_

**Daniel** _  
  
_When Daniel awoke with a start, it took him a moment to recall where he was and why he was chilled to the bone. It was still so dark, as one could expect so far up in the north at this time of the year, and his eyes were unaccustomed to such darkness, the nights much more oppressive and far longer than they were in London. Only the palest light flickered between the trees, signalling dawn, but it did little to brighten up their little meadow camp. It must have been quite early still, though he didn't quite trust his perception of time in this strange land.  
  
He heard rustling, the crackling of twigs in the surrounding forest, and started again. There was a loud clatter as his shoe made contact with something, and looking around he realised he'd kicked down the lantern that had stood at the mouth of the tent. Daniel lifted it up hastily, but it was too late – the flame had already died.  
  
“Damn it,” he muttered, leaving the thing be. He scanned the surroundings nervously. He was sure he'd heard voices, but the camp seemed as it had been when he'd sat down hours previously. He didn't like the dark; the woods were unfamiliar to him and his sister, and he disliked the thought of what could lurk in there, just out of sight. The damned mist that had haunted them since their departure from Gothenburg two weeks ago was still there, making it even more difficult to see anything.  
  
Daniel stood up, shivering violently. The quilt that he'd had wrapped around his shoulders had fallen off sometime during the night and his limbs felt stiff from the cold. “I can't believe I dozed off like that,” he told himself. “Some guard I am.”  
  
Their campfire had died down as he'd slept. Something else, too, seemed out of place to him, though he couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was. He walked around the camp slowly, careful to avoid stepping on brambles or rustling the dry leaves too much. In the dark he could just make out the shape of their horse, Daisy, grazing quietly in the peace of their secluded meadow. He approached her and she looked up, allowing him to pet her muzzle.  
  
“Good girl,” he said quietly. The bay mare went back to her grazing, unaware that anything was the matter, and he caressed her flank absent-mindedly, looking around in the opening. “Where's your friend?”  
  
His eyes darted back and forth, trying to see if there was any movement in the shadows, but he realised it was useless. Wilhelm, the huge white gelding their guide rode was easy to spot even in the darkness, and he was nowhere to be seen. Daniel rushed to the tent at the very edge of their camp and dropped to his knees, lifting the canvas flap just enough to peek inside. Empty. Peculiarly enough the saddle was still there along with the guide's other things. Only the bow and the quiver of arrows he carried along seemed to be gone.  
  
“Where the hell has he gone in the middle of the night?” Daniel got up again and went to the tent his sister slept in. He cleared his throat, leaning down towards the opening. “Hazel? Hazel, are you awake?”

There was no answer. Daniel frowned, kneeling down again. “Hazel, the baron's gone. Do you have any idea where—“  
  
The rest of the words caught in his throat. Her tent, too, was empty, the blankets kicked aside as though in a hurry. Daniel leapt to his feet, looking around wildly. He could feel panic rising in his chest.  
  
“Hazel?” he bellowed to the surrounding darkness. “Where are you?”  
  
The only answer he got was his own echo. Where could she have gone at this hour, all alone? And in the middle of the woods, no less? His mind was racing, thinking of cliffs and marshes and all the other damned dangers that these lands were hiding. He had to find her.  
  
“Hazel!”  
  
He spun around, praying that he'd receive an answer at any given moment. And then, there was a flicker of light. Daniel blinked, seeing nothing but velvety blackness for a long while. Then, there it was again, a quivering flame in the distance that flickered and died, then flickered back to life again, as long as he was looking at it. It felt like an invitation, like someone out there wanted him to see the light. Fear engulfed him at the sight of it, but he dashed madly into the trees without thinking, without a source of light, his feet flying over the treacherous undergrowth and wilting ferns and the rotting trunks of fallen trees. He ran towards the enchanting flame, yelling his sister's name as loudly as he could, and the cold air felt like someone had been stabbing his lungs repeatedly.  
  
Splashing followed his steps every now and then, the ground sometimes giving a little more than it should, and he knew he was approaching the marshlands their guide had warned him about. “Hazel! Where are you?” he nearly sobbed, but the flame was still in his field of vision, closer all the time, and the only thought in his head was that if she was anywhere to be found, it would be here.  
  
At last he saw her, a figure in billowing skirts treading towards the flickering fire. She moved slowly, like a sleepwalker, with her eyes fixed on the flame, and with one last lunge he reached her, arms flying around her waist and wrenching her to safety. Daniel lost his balance and they both fell, the cold mossy ground softening the impact.  
  
“Ouch! Danny, what the—“  
  
“Shh!” he told her, clamping his hand over her mouth. His eyes were on the marshlands ahead, where not one but several flames now flickered angrily, the fires sending little sparks in the air. Hazel trembled against him, the enchantment clearly broken. He tried to focus his gaze on the sinister lights and for a second, he thought he made out the shape of something small and human-like carrying what looked like a lantern, but then he blinked and the image faded, the fires disappearing into the rising mist. He let his hand fall from Hazel's mouth and she sighed audibly.  
  
“The mist is thickening again,” Hazel said, sounding relieved.  
  
“Why did you go after them? You've seen their lights before!” Daniel said, the scare making him sound angrier than he was.  
  
“I'm sorry, Danny,” she grimaced. “They caught me off guard, I guess. I thought I heard someone call, and then I was already following them. Did you see them, though? It wasn't just the flame, there was someone carrying it!”  
  
“I saw it, all right. What do you reckon that was?”  
  
Hazel shook her head. Her hair had come undone and she looked like she'd wandered in the woods for hours, branches and leaves sticking out from her tangled mane. “Some kind of an elf, I guess. At least they looked like such. I couldn't really see them, you know – it was like they didn't want to be seen.”  
  
“I felt the same,” Daniel admitted. He got up, helping Hazel to her feet. Her gown had ripped at the hem, and after a moment Daniel realised she was barefoot. “Where are your shoes? You're going to catch your death!”  
  
“It's okay, Danny,” she told him, placing a steadying hand on his arm. “Let's go back to the camp. I want to ask Alexander about those lights.”  
  
“Oh,” Daniel said, his expression turning sour. “His lordship seems to have done a bunk. He wasn't there when I came to. I swear, we'd be better off without his so-called company...”  
  
“He knows these lands better than we do,” Hazel said, hands on her waist. “You are so quick to judge him. What if he just wanted some time alone?”  
  
“In the middle of the night?” He laughed harshly. “What if we find out he has followed those flames and drowned? Fancy being stuck in the wilderness without a guide.”  
  
“Don't speak like that, Danny.”  
  
He sighed and pulled her into his arms, embracing her tightly. “Sorry, Hazel. You gave me quite a scare there.”  
  
She hugged him back. “I know, and I'm sorry. I'll be more careful from now on.”  
  
The way back to the camp wasn't as laborious as he'd feared; his rampage through the undergrowth had left an easy path to follow, and they were back within ten minutes. Daisy watched them thoughtfully as they returned, her tail whipping back and forth. Daniel seated Hazel in front of the firepit and brought her a blanket and her shoes.  
  
“Bundle up, Hazel,” he told her. “I'll try to get the fire going again.”  
  
It took him several minutes of sweating and cursing before he succeeded, but finally he managed to produce a small flame. He fed it dry leaves, fuelling the fire until he could be sure it wouldn't die out again immediately, and after a while tossed in couple of the smaller logs they'd gathered the night before. Hazel sighed, the warmth of the fire slowly reaching her.  
  
“Better?”  
  
“Much better,” she agreed.  
  
“I'll warm us some of the leftover gruel as soon as the fire's a bit warmer,” he promised. He looked around, scowling. “Seriously, where the hell is that man? I could use an extra pair of hands.”  
  
“Why don't you just call him Alexander?”  
  
Daniel eyed her with the air of someone who'd heard the same question a dozen times already, which was exactly what it was. “It feels inappropriate. He's our patron, after all, and one of the nobility.”  
  
“He told us immediately after we left that it would be all right to address him by his given name.”  
  
“You are free to do so if you wish to,” Daniel stated, sitting next to her. “I feel ill at ease around him. I don't want to get too comfortable with a man like that.”  
  
Hazel let out a long-suffering sigh, but didn't pursue the subject further. They had had this conversation at regular intervals since they'd left Gothenburg and they always reached a dead end with it.  
  
The baron seemed likable enough, Daniel supposed, but there was something about him that made him feel nervous. Maybe it was the fact that he was a nobleman, or just that he had a tendency to act like he knew more Daniel and Hazel did about every single thing. It confused, not to mention irritated him beyond all reasoning.  
  
Right now, Herbert and the rest of his team would be in different corners of Sweden. The professor himself, Daniel knew, had continued to Stockholm to meet their other benefactors and journey somewhere north-east to look at rune stones that supposedly interested the British Museum. Some others of their team had headed to the southern coast, and Daniel had taken his sister west of Gothenburg into a sparsely populated area close to the Norwegian border that consisted mostly of woods and more woods. According to Alexander, the locals called this area Dalsland, 'valley country', and Daniel had no difficulty whatsoever understanding why. Every day they seemed to climb endless hills, then descend again into deep valleys that were all as dark as the ones before it, the woods and lakes neverending.  
  
Still, he didn't complain they'd been assigned to this area. He knew why Herbert had given it to them – it was the one closest to their rendez-vous point, and had the least to map out. They couldn't move as fast as the others, not with Hazel's condition, but at least the professor had agreed to let Daniel bring her with them.  
  
It still seemed strange to him how Alexander, the baron, had ended up coming with them. Their team had known that they'd meet one of their patrons upon their arrival in Gothenburg, and Daniel could see why the baron wanted to influence their decisions – there was quite a lot of money involved from his side, too – but it escaped him why the man had insisted on coming along with them on the journey itself. It was in no way comfortable to travel the wilderness in September, and it was slow going. Nothing they'd said had swayed the baron's decision, however, and he had offered Daniel his services as a guide and interpreter for their journey. He had accepted grudgingly. The baron was Prussian but seemed to speak fluent Swedish, which was more than Daniel could say about himself.  
  
He couldn't remember much about meeting the baron for the first time. He hadn't made much of a noise about himself and had the sort unobtrusive air about him that made people just forget about his presence after a while, and Daniel had been fine with that. Hazel, however, seemed to have taken to the elderly nobleman almost immediately, and it was with her that Alexander spoke with most of the time.  
  
Dawn seemed to be slowly approaching, and though it was still as foggy and overcast as before, it was finally growing lighter. Hazel yawned, and Daniel had to wonder how much sleep she'd managed to get. Her coughing fits kept her awake more often than not, and though being in the open air had made her more energetic, Daniel knew she was weak and needed all the rest she could get.  
  
He'd almost started dozing off where he was when Hazel nudged him suddenly. She pointed to where the woods thinned into a small path, and a man on horseback materialised from the fog, a man who was so pale he looked like a ghost in the dreary morning light.  
  
“Oh, thank goodness,” Hazel breathed. “He's back.”  
  
Daniel said nothing, but continued to glare in his direction. Despite the early hour the baron seemed wide awake, and he noticed the pair of them sitting by the fire as soon as he'd reached the edge of the clearing. He slid down from Wilhelm's back, freed him from the bridle and left him to graze freely with Daisy, the mare that Hazel rode. Daniel could see the bow and the quiver slung over his shoulder.  
  
“The two of you are up early,” he noted, eyebrows raised. He walked towards the firepit, and in its light Daniel could see that he was carrying a pair of hares by their ears in one hand.  
  
“Good of you to show up,” Daniel sneered. “Where have you been?”  
  
Alexander dropped the hares on the ground, removing the bow and the quiver from his back. “We need something to eat, as I'm sure you know.”  
  
“You were hunting?” Hazel asked, but Daniel interrupted before the baron could answer her.  
  
“Oh, nice of you to desert the camp in the middle of the night,” he said scathingly. “It's not like we might have a need for your help or anything.”  
  
Alexander frowned and his eyes fell on Hazel's dishevelled form. “Has something happened to the young lady?”  
  
“Danny was just worried when you were gone—“  
  
Daniel got to his feet, all drowsiness gone. He was positively quivering with indignation. “I woke up and she was gone from her tent, as were you! She must have been roaming in the woods for hours before I found her, just look at the state of her—“  
  
“I left scarcely an hour ago,” Alexander interrupted coolly. “And I can promise you, she was still in the camp then.”  
  
Daniel gaped at him, then turned to look at Hazel again. Her cheeks were smudged with dirt, her hair tangled. Now that it was lighter he could finally see her properly, and she looked as though she'd been rolling around in a pit somewhere; there were cobwebs and traces of moss stuck to her dress and her hair.  
  
“That's ridiculous. She can't possibly have… I mean, look at her, you don't get like this from a little walk in the woods,“ Daniel protested. Alexander ignored him and looked directly at Hazel. His gaze was imploring.  
  
“What made you leave the camp?”  
  
Hazel sighed. “It was those flames in the darkness. I heard them calling for me – that's what woke me up – and I think I must have pursued them. I can't really remember it. Danny caught me before I got too close.”  
  
Daniel was expecting the baron to laugh at her and tell her she'd been dreaming, but the man nodded seriously. He walked up to her and knelt down, gently removing twigs and leaves from her hair.  
  
“You have been put under an enchantment,” he told the shivering girl. “They were trying to lure you into the marshes. Time passes differently under their spell. Your brother may very well be right in saying that you were gone for far longer than we perceived.”  
  
A look of understanding passed between him and Hazel, like a flash of lightning. “You mean that I was pulled through the veil?”  
  
“Yes, I think so,” Alexander replied. “But only momentarily.”  
  
“What were those things?” Daniel asked in a hushed voice. He sank down next to Hazel again, wrapping an arm around her protectively.  
  
“Did you see them, too?” the baron asked him.  
  
“Yes. Cold flames from the marshes. It was almost as if… as if...”  
  
“It almost looked like something human-shaped, but much smaller,” Hazel continued for him, and Daniel nodded.  
  
“Yes, but only for a moment. They vanished as soon as I realised they were there.”  
  
Hazel opened her mouth but before she could say more she began coughing violently, her frail shoulders shaking. Daniel pressed a handkerchief in her hands, rubbing her back gently. The baron went to her tent, rummaged for something, and returned a moment later with a bottle in his hands. Daniel took it wordlessly, unstoppering it for her.  
  
“Here, Hazel,” he said, brushing her hair out of the way. She nodded to signal her understanding, took the bottle between shaking hands and managed to down a small amount between coughs. She inhaled, then exhaled slowly, breathing easing, and took a little more. A little later the fit had passed, and Daniel pocketed the handkerchief, decisively not looking at the blood on it.  
  
“I'll prepare us some breakfast,” the baron said, sitting down on the other side of the firepit. “You should rest, my lady.”  
  
She offered no protests as Daniel wrapped her more firmly in the blanket and carried her into her tent. Some colour had returned to her cheeks, but she was still very pale as he left her to rest, the medicine safely within her reach should she need it again.  
  
The two men sat in perfect silence around the fire, the baron busy skinning the hares he'd caught. Daniel didn't ask where he'd learned to do that; his thought were churning with too much worry for Hazel to have any room for curiousity. He stared into the flames, arms wrapped around his knees.  
  
Dragging Hazel out of the hospice and into the unknown wilderness was surely madness, but the prospect of leaving her on the mercy of the sisters had seemed much too cruel. Their parents no longer visited her – he'd stopped visiting them in return around the same time to drive a point home, but to no avail – and she had nothing short of begged to be taken away from there at any cost. Daniel's heart had crumbled in front of her. She'd always been so ill, so frail, that he couldn't remember the last time she'd been allowed outdoors as normal, healthy people were. She ought to have been introduced into the society now, but instead of ballrooms all she'd seen had been hospital walls.  
  
Consumption seemed like it had been her entire life, though he knew that wasn't true. He simply didn't remember the time before it, and she remembered even less of it. At fifteen years of age she was still short of stature and thin, and though she'd always dreamt of doing what her brother did and travel the world, she'd hardly ever even left London. Daniel had vowed to take her away as his final gift to her; let her see the world, even for what little time she had left. The professor had questioned whether it was a good idea to bring her along, but he had too much of a soft spot for his young protégé to refuse him in the end.  
  
Daniel watched as the baron set a pot of water over the fire. His hands worked quickly as he sliced the tender meat and peeled potatoes and turnips, setting them aside to wait for the water to boil. Daniel shivered, pulling his legs closer to his chest. The fog had thinned ever so slightly, but its dampness still pressed against him inevitably and seemed to seep through his clothes and right to his very marrows.  
  
“It would be best if we moved away from this location as soon as possible,” Alexander said softly, shaking him out of his reverie.  
  
“Hazel needs her rest,” he replied stiffly. He disliked being left alone with their guide like this. “We'll move when she can continue.”  
  
“She has attracted their attention. It would be advisable to get her out of here before they try to claim her again, as I'm sure you know.”  
  
“I've no idea what you're talking about, sir.”  
  
“Their kind are not keen on letting go of those who are observant enough to see them. Though,” the baron added, his eyes seizing Daniel's momentarily. “I suppose you wouldn't understand. Unlike the young lady, you are much too obtuse to believe in such things, even if you saw them with your very eyes.”  
  
Daniel pursed his lips, biting back all the rude words that he was yearning to throw at the man. “You believe her, I assume?”  
  
“And you don't?”  
  
“Of course I believe her! All I'm saying is that I don't understand why you do. Normal people would think she's out of her mind.”  
  
The baron made a noncommittal sound, saying no more. Daniel continued to glare at him for several minutes, but the man seemed entirely unconcerned, his attention back on the stew he was preparing. For some reason it had bothered Daniel from the very beginning that this stranger seemed to have taken his sister's word for truth ever since they'd started their journey together, and even moreso that Hazel didn't seem to bother hiding the things she could see. He just couldn't fathom it; she'd never mentioned them to anyone else but him, her brother.  
  
He frowned. For all that Daniel could see, the baron was an unremarkable man. Yes, his face still bore the echoes of great good looks upon it, and the deep lines that were etched around his mouth and eyes only enhanced it. Perhaps he was slightly taller than most men, or perhaps it was simply the way he held himself, straight-backed in ways most men his age weren't, but nothing about him struck Daniel as unusual. Only like this, in the whiteness of morning mist, could Daniel admit that he looked rather impressive, but it was only a trick of the light, surely. He was so pale that he seemed to glow even in the weakest light, his hair pure white, his visage so pale that it looked like sunlight had never left its mark upon it.  
  


* * *

  
**Hazel  
  
**Hours later she found herself nodding off to the soft swaying of Daisy's hooves, her steps ever firm on the uneven ground. Daniel had given her his own cloak despite her protests that she was quite warm as it was. She had long since stopped feeling embarrassed about his coddling; it was only bound to increase as her condition advanced, after all.  
  
It was oddly comfortable, all bundled up on the saddle, Daniel's arm keeping her firmly pressed against his chest, and Hazel allowed her mind to wander in the safety of her brother’s embrace. He’d always been the dutiful child, Danny. Due to their age gap their shared childhood had been short, and she remembered very little of it. Some images did still come back to her, however, as they slowly rode through the misty woods. Tall grass, the sound of grasshoppers, her shoes getting wet in tiny brooks. Ditches that she was too little to jump over herself. Danny carrying her on piggyback and jumping in her stead while she laughed in his ear. Danny being scolded when their parents had seen the state of her shoes and dress…  
  
“Irresponsible,” father said. “Taking her out in this condition...”  
  
She frowned in her slumber, wanting to protest. Father had always been too harsh with Danny.  
  
“Just get us to the next town, baron,” Daniel’s voice responded tersely.  
  
No, it wasn’t father, she thought, and this was not England. It was just the baron and her brother, always at loggerheads. She relaxed again, drifting off to the sounds of their voices, too weary to interrupt them.  
  


* * *

  
**Daniel**  
  
Later in the afternoon they reached the top of another hill, momentarily taking them above the layer of mist that engulfed the lower lands still. Occasionally, a beam of light would penetrate the walls of clouds and cast its rays over the land, making it appear more fairytale-like than gloomy. They came to a halt, Alexander in the lead, his white hair flying behind him as though invisible wind had caught it, but the breeze never seemed to reach the other two riding behind him.  
  
Below them lay another valley, growing thick with the same endless sea of evergreen that seemed to spread as far as the eye could see wherever they went. For a moment sunlight managed to reach through the clouds and it reflected from the surface of a far-off lake, golden and blinding, until a cloud of white mist obscured it from view again. Daniel held his breath, drinking in the view.  
  
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” he asked Hazel, seated in front of him. She had been too weak to be trusted to ride alone when they'd departed the city, but today her eyes were alert and she seemed to be enjoying herself to the fullest. She twisted around on his lap, looking this way and that with interest.  
  
“It's wonderful,” she replied. “You can see so far from up here.”  
  
“For now, at least. The fog seems to persist no matter where we go.”  
  
Alexander peered over his shoulder at the two of them. He had said very little since they'd packed up and continued on the road. “There is a town about three hours' ride from here – two, if we make haste,” he said, his eyes hovering on Hazel. “She should sleep indoors tonight.”  
  
“Right you are, sir,” Daniel said. As much as he disliked admitting it, he wanted to put some distance between Hazel and the marshlands, which seemed to be a common occurrence in this part of the country.  
  
They set off again, slowly descending into the woods below. Daniel could feel his heart sinking as the mist rolled in and swallowed them again, making it impossible to see any further than a few feet ahead. Alexander was only barely visible ahead of them, his outlines blurred, and if Daniel let his gaze wander too much he seemed to disappear from view entirely. He shook his head, forcing himself to concentrate and keep his eyes fixed on the road ahead.  
  
It became eerily quiet the further they went. The rustling of animals, of leaves in the trees, birdsong, all quietened little by little. It was as though even birds avoided the densest fog. Daniel could feel the hairs at the back of his head standing to an end. Being unable to see properly made him jumpy, something Hazel liked to tease him about, but this time he could sense that she was feeling just as nervous. She looked around slowly, scanning what little of their surroundings she could make out.  
  
“I don't like this, Danny,” she muttered.  
  
“I don't like it much, either,” he admitted. “The fog is so dense that I can barely even see the baron.”  
  
She turned to look ahead where Alexander's black mantle was almost about to disappear into the mist, then shook her head. “That's not it. It's too quiet here.”  
  
Daniel strained his ears, listening intently. All he could hear was the clopping of hooves against ground. It felt as though the entire forest was holding its breath. A chill went up his spine.  
  
“You mean..?”  
  
Hazel nodded firmly, her expression serious.  
  
“There's something in there, all right,” Daniel said quietly, taking a better hold of the reins. He sunk his heels to Daisy's sides, urging her to walk more briskly. He tried not to shudder when the baron came to a better view, as white as the mist engulfing him – he looked oddly sinister in this colourless, shapeless world, the black cloak trailing behind him the only thing that told Daniel where he was.  
  
“There's something out there, sir,” he told the baron, Daisy catching up with Wilhelm. He couldn't quite keep the tone of urgency out of his voice.  
  
“I know,” the baron whispered. “Please keep your voices down.”  
  
“What is it? A bear? Wolves?”  
  
“No, not wolves,” Hazel interrupted, and the both men looked at her. Her eyes had grown strangely unfocused; there was a milky quality to them, like the eyes of a dead animal. She pulled up the hood of her cloak, drawing it as far down as she could. “There is a fell presence in the air. Something is watching us.”  
  
Daniel gripped the reins tighter, forcing his hands to remain steady.  
  
Alexander was still looking at Hazel. “Can you see them?”  
  
“No, but I can tell they are there. I don't think they want to be seen.”  
  
“Let's proceed slowly. You two, stay behind me.”  
  
They did as he instructed, trailing after him. Daniel was growing more and more aware of whatever it was that was watching them. He could feel the presence of something, or multiple somethings, observing him from the misty woods, and the further they went the more intent those unseen eyes became. In no time at all he was drenched in cold sweat.  
  
“Keep your eyes on the road,” Hazel whispered suddenly.  
  
Daniel was about to ask her what she meant when he saw movement from the corner of his eye, and he quickly returned his gaze on the baron's back. The mist was thinning, Daniel thought, he was finally able to make out their surroundings. Great, moss-covered boulders appeared from the fog, tree trunks thicker than any he'd ever seen materialising from the white nothingness. Then he realised the shapes were shifting, the surface of what he'd taken to be boulders rising and falling as though they were breathing. Tree trunks were quivering and edging closer at the edge of his vision. He tried to ignore them, but it was impossible to sever the connection now that he had become aware of their presence.  
  
He could feel Hazel trembling against him, mute with fear. Daisy neighed nervously, stepping sideways, and he struggled to keep her under control.  
  
“Easy, girl, easy,” he told the mare, his voice breaking even as he tried to reassure her. He tried to keep his eyes off the things, but they were shifting ever closer, unblinking eyes fixated on him, and he looked around wildly, trying to find a way out.  
  
“Keep your eyes on the road, Daniel!” Alexander called ahead, echoing Hazel. Daniel barely heard him. He swore the creatures were speaking, their voices horrible, like the distant rumbling of thunder or the sound of rock grinding against rock, deep and terrifying. Daisy jumped sideways and broke into a trot, and Daniel yelled, nearly losing his balance.  
  
The baron turned around at once, Wilhelm's long legs covering the distance between them in seconds. Alexander grabbed their reins, steadying the prancing Daisy. Daniel was holding on to her mane, Hazel's face buried against his shoulder as she clung to him for support.  
  
“Don't move a muscle,” Alexander commanded, looking straight into his eyes. Daniel wanted to wrench his eyes off the man, his senses screaming for him to flee, but he couldn't look away. Something seemed to compel him to hold the eye contact for as long as possible, and Daniel found himself locked in place. The baron whipped around in his saddle to stare at the enormous shapes emerging around them. He straightened, still holding Daisy's reins, and the creatures in the mist recoiled.  
  
“Fall back!” a commanding voice rang out. Daniel couldn't tell whose the voice was; it sounded like the rumbling voices of the things around them, just much more human, and for one wild second he almost believed he'd seen Alexander's mouth move. Then, a gust of wind sent fallen leaves on the path in front of them flying all around, billowing the baron's cloak and nearly obscuring him from view. Daisy nickered and tossed her head nervously. The mist broke apart for a moment, and Daniel had one last glimpse of the creatures before they turned around and vanished into the woods. The yell that had been about to escape him died in his mouth, and he stared mutely in the direction where the creatures had disappeared from view.  
  
Alexander let go of the reins and turned back towards the two siblings.  
  
“Are you two all right?”  
  
Daniel was trembling from head to toe, but he managed to nod. He wasn't sure what exactly had just happened and sought their guide's eyes, hoping to find some explanation there. Daniel blinked. Had his eyes always been yellow? He shook his head, trying to shake off the haze of terror still clouding his thoughts, and when he looked again the image was gone, the baron looking the same as ever. Pale brown eyes, not yellow, Daniel corrected himself. Nobody's eyes were yellow, and he wasn't quite ready to start believing in demons yet.  
  
“What the hell were those things? They were enormous!” Daniel breathed. Hazel slowly disentangled herself from him, taking off her hood. She, too, looked shaken.  
  
“You were able to see them,” the baron said. It was a mere statement; for the first time since the start of their journey he looked at Daniel with keen interest. Daniel nodded again, uncertain what the man wanted. Alexander flashed him a crooked smile.  
  
“Danny can see just as I can,” Hazel said softly. “He has been able to see for a long, long time.”  
  
Alexander looked at the pair of them curiously, then turned Wilhelm around and beckoned them to follow. The woods around them felt entirely different. Slowly, the noises of small animals and birds returned to the surroundings. It was still foggy, but it had thinned enough for them to see where they were going.  
  
“I remember you when you were only three years old,” Daniel said quietly, after a long silence. “You had pigtails and that green Sunday dress mother had made for you. I found you standing in the corner of the kitchen, talking with thin air, giggling. You said there was a girl your age there who'd always play hide-and-seek with you.”  
  
She looked up at him, a small smile making her thin lips curl. “She had been very lonely. I remember how delighted she was when I was able to see her finally.”  
  
One of his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her protectively. “You'd been very sick before that. The pneumonia almost killed you. Do you remember any of that?”  
  
She shook her head. Alexander was watching her, his expression unreadable.  
  
“The veil is thinning for me again,” she said as calmly as discussing the weather. “I can see them more and more clearly all the time. My time is approaching.”  
  
Daniel closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat. He hated to think about it. “Not necessarily, Hazel. It's not only the dying who can see through the veil, but also those who have been close to death before.”  
  
“Uh-huh.”  
  
He had the feeling someone was staring at him, and opening his eyes, he found the baron observing him. Daniel could easily guess what was on his mind. “I'm not ill, sir, if that's what you're thinking.” He smiled stiffly. “Hazel told me about her invisible friend and I tried to find her, too. Father overheard me. He thought I'd been possessed and, being the loving parent he'd always been, decided to beat it out of me.” _  
_  
Alexander inhaled sharply. “What father would do that to his own son?” he asked, repulsed.  
  
Daniel laughed, but there was no humour to it. “So, are you going to tell us what those creatures just now were, or shall we reminisce some more?”  
  
“They were trolls, folk of the forest,” the baron said. “Most people will never see them and take them to be just rocks, fallen trees, or undergrowth. They prefer the dark, like most creatures of their kind. We are in their domain; it is only natural that they should be curious about us.”  
  
“They didn't seem too welcoming.”  
  
Alexander nodded grimly. “They are known to approach those who can see past their shroud.”  
  
Daniel looked up. He was finally able to see patches of the sky here and there, though sunlight still didn't quite reach them. “Well, at least the damned mist is finally thinning. Perhaps daylight will keep them at bay.”  
  
Alexander glanced over his shoulder, sharing a look with Hazel. Neither of them said anything, but a sense of mutual understanding passed between them. Daniel waited for them to elaborate, but no explanation came, and they rode on in silence once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very excited to present this project to you all at long last! I lived briefly in Dalsland some years ago and fell in love with the area's nature, so this story is a sort of homage to that. Enjoy! I've wanted to write a longer story that features Hazel as a major character for literal years, so I'm barely containing myself. :) Also quick note: please don't discuss Rebirth spoilers in the comments section.
> 
> My writing playlist is here, if you wanna get in the mood: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLrUHUqcGPyOwWur8Q1cAW0vG3YbMmjQIi
> 
> Updates every two weeks, so next update's coming on week 45. Let me know what you thought and see you in two weeks!


	2. Godforsaken land

_September 1839_

**Daniel**  
  
“You go up and rest, Hazel.”  
  
“There's no need, really, I'm feeling just fine—“  
  
“I insist.”  
  
“All right, all right.”  
  
It had taken them a couple of hours to reach the village Alexander had talked about, and it was already dark by the time they'd signed in at the local inn. Daniel passed the innkeeper some coins and the man nodded his satisfaction when the amount was correct. Without their guide to handle the transaction Daniel was forced to rely on miming what he wanted, and he wasn't feeling too confident about it.  
  
Hazel sighed, smoothing her skirts absent-mindedly. “I'll just take my things upstairs. I need to get changed into something drier, anyway,” she said. “Can you come and fetch me when there's food?”  
  
“No need, Hazel,” Daniel told her. “I'll just arrange for them to bring you something in your room.”  
  
She sighed again, but did not protest any further. “As you wish, Danny.”  
  
And with that she marched up the stairs with a bag in her arms, vanishing from view.  
  
There was a small dining area downstairs and Daniel retreated there with a tankard of beer, choosing an unoccupied table in the corner of the room. He wasn't much for drinking, having always been too slight to build any tolerance for the stuff, but it was cold and miserable and the only thing he wanted at the moment was to forget what had happened in the forest. He shuddered, trying not to think of the towering, shadowy creatures that had surrounded them, and wondered if he'd be able to sleep that night. He was only vaguely aware of the rain pounding against the roof; the drizzle that had started as they had neared the village seemed to have turned into a downpour.  
  
A few moments later the door opened again and Alexander walked in, flanking a group of burly, bearded locals. The baron was looking about as dreadful as Daniel felt – his clothes were all damp, his boots muddy to the knee and hair plastered to his face with rain water. No one looked at him twice, not even the innkeeper, which Daniel found odd; road-weary or not, his clothes spoke of considerable wealth and status, and his bearing wasn't that of a man who'd grown up doing physical labour. The mere thought irritated Daniel, and he looked away, head bowed down as he took another sip of his tankard.  
  
Maybe if I don't look at him he won't notice me, he thought. He sighed inwardly as he heard the telltale sound of approaching footfalls, and he knew he wasn't about to get his wish.  
  
“I was able to arrange the horses a place in the stables,” Alexander said as he reached the table. “Where is the young lady?”  
  
“Upstairs, getting changed. I told her to get some rest.”  
  
“That's probably for the best,” the baron agreed. Daniel forced himself to smile and look up at him. Water was dripping down his long nose onto his already sopping wet coat.  
  
“Sir? I hate to bother you further, but could you ask the innkeeper to send up some food for her? I managed to arrange us rooms, but…”  
  
Alexander held up his hand. “I understand. I'll take care of it.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Daniel watched him sourly as he exchanged words with the innkeeper. As little as he liked the man, Daniel had to admit the baron went out of his way to ensure Hazel’s well-being and never argued if she needed something. Well, I guess everyone has to have some redeeming qualities, he thought dryly, and downed the rest of his beer.  
  


* * *

  
**Hazel  
  
** The sound of rain was soothing now that she was out of the downpour and had a roof over her head, not to mention a dry outfit to wear. Looking out the window all she could see was a blur; the rain was coming down harder with each passing minute, it seemed, and it was growing steadily darker. They'd reached the town just in time.  
  
Hazel opened the bag lying on the bed and extracted a book from it. She leafed through it, a sigh of relief escaping her as she turned the pages and found them unharmed. “Thank goodness,” she muttered. “It didn't get wet on the way.”  
  
She sat down on the bed, laid the book open on her lap and took out her writing tools from the bag. She unscrewed the ink bottle carefully and set it on the bedside table, quill at the ready. Her thoughts were almost as muddled as the weather; where to even begin to document what had happened in the past day? Hazel sighed again, setting the quill on the paper. Her hand seemed to be moving on its own as she thought back on the massive boulder-like figures in the mist, and little by little, stroke by stroke she sketched what she remembered of the creatures in her book.  
  
A part of her felt guilty that she wasn't laying down to rest as she'd promised her brother, but there was no helping it, really. Daniel's worried frown followed her everywhere these days, no matter what she did, and she could only gently pry her thoughts away from him in response. Weary though she was from the day's ride, Hazel knew she'd know no rest until she was done documenting their encounter with the forest folk, and she'd sooner have them haunt the pages of her book than her dreams.  
  
Her quill moved with practised ease across the page as she sketched drawing after drawing. Strange shapes – tree trunks, mossy boulders, rotting logs and tree stumps. She hadn't risked a direct look at the creatures, but her imagination filled in the gaps where she found her memory lacking. Hazel though back on their guide's words, quill pausing momentarily.  
  
“He called them 'trolls',” she thought out loud and wrote the name beneath her drawings as an afterthought. She flipped back to the previous spread, which was taken up by sketches of the flame-carrying creatures that had lured her into the marshes. Hazel shuddered. The memory of their calls still made her break into cold sweat. She'd never heard voices like that before, and she could only wonder what they were called, or if they even had a name.  
  
There was a knock on her door and Hazel started, nearly dropping the book.  
  
“Miss? Are you decent?” the baron's voice called.  
  
“Yes. Come on in,” she answered. A moment later the door opened and Alexander stepped in.  
  
“Are you not resting?” he asked, closing the door after himself. He looked as though he'd been swimming in the river, soaked to the bone. A puddle was steadily gathering at his feet where he stood. Hazel grimaced.  
  
“Don't tell Danny,” she said and set the book aside. “I'm not sure I want to risk sleep after what happened in the woods, lest I have nightmares all night.”  
  
“My lips are sealed, although I do hope you'll not be staying up ‘till dawn. Should the rain relent we'll have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”  
  
“I make no promises that I can’t keep.”  
  
She dipped the quill in the ink once more, set the tip against the paper and finished her drawing of the trolls with a flourish. The ink gleamed black and wet on the page as she set the book aside and started putting her tools away.  
  
Alexander craned his neck, still firmly rooted to his spot at the door. “Ah. The trolls we encountered in the forest?”  
  
“Yes. I wanted to immortalise them while they’re still fresh in my memory. I might start believing it was a dream if I wait.”  
  
“You have a good eye for detail.”  
  
Hazel glanced over her shoulder and smirked. “You are allowed to move, you know. Or are you forced to remain as you are if I have not invited you in properly?”  
  
Alexander scoffed. “I do not wish to be rude and leave puddles in my wake, my lady. You may have noticed that I am not at my most presentable at the moment.”  
  
“I grew up in London, Alexander. I’m used to the rain. Please, make yourself comfortable.”  
  
She screwed the ink bottle shut as firmly as her shaking hands allowed. She could feel the day’s exhaustion pressing against her bones, and the cold, humid air was heavy in her lungs. She barely had the time to reach for a handkerchief before dissolving into a fit of coughs again. Alexander was at her side in an instant.  
  
“There, there,” he said, rubbing her back soothingly. “Water?”  
  
Hazel nodded and coughed again. She managed to gulp down the water slowly between coughs, and once the fit subsided she wiped the blood off her hands. At least it hadn’t been as bad as the fits she’d suffered in the hospice; the mere change of scenery and getting away from the sisters seemed to have improved her condition. Her coughing fits didn’t last quite as long now, and there were days when she could manage with a smaller dosage, which she counted as a blessing. The medicine made her light-headed and drowsy, blurring her understanding of time. Out here, she felt awake and aware in ways she hadn’t in the past year.  
  
The floorboards creaked and when she looked up she found Alexander sitting on a chair across the room.  
  
“This air is not good for you, miss,” he said, as though guessing what was on her mind.  
  
“The smog in London was worse,” Hazel replied.  
  
“I am not sure it was wise of your brother to bring you along on such tiring journey.”  
  
“It wasn’t his decision, it was mine.”  
  
“Are you not afraid of your condition worsening? There is no hospital where we’re going that can help you should anything happen.”  
  
“I finished being afraid years ago.” She paused. She’d crumpled the dirty handkerchief in her fist as she thought. “I just want to feel alive before I die, it’s as simple as that.”  
  
“What of your brother?”  
  
“He understands, I hope. I’d rather he have some other memories of me than just sitting by my bed in the hospice.”  
  
They sat in silence for a time. She picked up her book again and blew gently to the ink before trying it with a fingertip. A part of her was still itching to continue writing, but she could tell that she was growing too hungry and tired for it. Perhaps in the morning.  
  
“What were those spirits at the marshes? The ones that were carrying lights?”  
  
“Lyktgubbar.” He spelled it out for her letter by letter. “They are spirits that try to lure travellers towards the marshlands and death with their flames. Some say that they are the spirits of those who have fallen in and drowned, corrupted by malevolence to draw in others to share their fate.”  
  
Hazel shuddered. “There were so many of them. There must be many who go missing in the woods and are never found.”  
  
The window panes rattled silently as the wind grew stronger. The world outside was just a dark blur behind the rain. The chair creaked as Alexander got up.  
  
“You must be hungry. I’ll have a word with the innkeeper and see that your supper will be delivered shortly.”  
  
“Thank you. You are too kind.”  
  
It took a while for her eyes to get adjusted to the darkness after he was gone.  
  


* * *

  
**Daniel  
  
** The day dawned bleak and gray. The clouds were moving fast across the steel-clad sky, yet a quick glimpse to the woodlands below the hills promised even more of the damned mist that seemed to dog their footsteps everywhere they went in these lands. Daniel was relieved to see the rain had stopped overnight, though it had left the roads wet and muddy. The ride would not be enjoyable, he thought with a sigh, and put on his thicker coat.  
  
To his surprise Hazel had already been gone when he woke up. It was most unusual; she wasn’t an early riser unless her coughs kept her up, and even then her medicine tended to make her sleepy. There wasn’t a hint of sleep in her eyes when she looked up from her soup, however, and he thought she looked well-rested for once as he descended downstairs.  
  
“Good day,” Hazel said. “I wasn't expecting to see you until dusk.”  
  
“Very funny. It’s not even nine o’clock yet.”  
  
“I’m just teasing. Take something to eat. The bread is still warm from the oven.”  
  
Daniel frowned. It was more of the strange, sour dark bread that they’d been served many times since their arrival in Sweden. He still wasn’t quite sure if he liked its taste.  
  
"Where's our guide?" he asked.  
  
"Tending to the horses. He said we'd leave as soon as we've eaten."  
  
Hazel refilled her bowl and they ate in silence, idly listening to the innkeeper and the cook conversing with each other. Daniel tried to make sense of the words without much success. At times he almost thought he could understand - the words reminded him vaguely of German and, more rarely, English. Hazel's eyebrows furrowed as she listened, spoon in mid-air.  
  
The door opened and Alexander walked in, his heeled boots trailing mud on the floor. He was already dressed for the road, his clothes much drier and cleaner than they'd been the evening before. The innkeeper dashed to the door at once, mop in hand, muttering to himself as he went.  
  
Hazel's head shot up at the sight of Alexander.  
  
"The horses are ready. Are you packed?" he asked.  
  
Daniel gestured at the bag next to his feet and nudged it closer to Alexander without bothering to take the spoon out of his mouth. Alexander raised an eyebrow but made no comment as he picked up the bag.  
  
"Mine is still upstairs," Hazel said apologetically.  
  
"It's not a problem. I'll fetch it if you've packed your things."  
  
"I have. So did you get it?"  
  
"Everything has been arranged, miss."  
  
Daniel watched him go up the stairs, then turned to Hazel. "What has been arranged? Did I miss something?"  
  
Hazel didn't answer immediately. She emptied her soup bowl, wiped her mouth with a napkin, then sighed.  
  
"I asked Alexander to arrange me my own horse."  
  
Daniel almost dropped his spoon. "You _what_?"  
  
Another sigh. "I knew you'd be upset."  
  
"You're in no condition to ride alone!"  
  
"We'll move much faster if we're not sharing the same steed. We have a long way to go before the next town."  
  
"Hazel," Daniel said tersely. "You _can't_ ride alone. It's not proper for a—"  
  
"For a what?" she snapped, voice unusually sharp, and Daniel started.  
  
Neither of them said anything for a while. Daniel poked the potatoes in his soup with the spoon, trying to think. He sighed.  
  
"What if something happens to you?" he finally said. "You might fall and hurt yourself."  
  
"That can happen even if we're riding together."  
  
"Hazel," he said imploringly.  
  
"It's already September. If the first snow arrives while we're on the road we could get stuck in the wilderness for weeks. We have to move as quickly as we can. You know I'm right, don't you?"  
  
Daniel couldn't think of a single thing to say in protest, and they did not talk any more while they finished their breakfast. He helped Hazel put on her better coat and the travelling cloak.  
  
Alexander had already finished fastening their luggage behind the saddles when they exited the inn. Three horses stood outside the stables. Daisy was eyeing Hazel's new steed - a speckled gray pony with a fluffy coat and a long mane - with keen interest. The baron was talking to Wilhelm with a low voice, petting his neck softly as he did so.  
  
A stable cat came darting between the gelding's legs and paused to stare at Alexander with its eyes wide. Its ears pulled back as the man returned the gaze.  
  
Not even cats like him, Daniel thought triumphantly. His joy was short-lived; the cat rubbed its cheek against the man's legs and circled around him with its tail held high, purring so loudly that even Daniel could hear it. Alexander squatted down to scratch its chin.  
  
"My, aren't you a friendly fellow," he mumbled to the cat. "What do you want?"  
  
"We're here. Let's get going," Daniel said dully. Alexander fell silent and got up.  
  
Hazel was already offering her palm to the pony, who sniffed it curiously. She smiled and scratched it behind the ears.  
  
"She's beautiful," she commented. "What's her name?"  
  
"The stableboy called her Humlan."  
  
"Humlan?" she repeated uncertainly. The pony blinked at her as though listening.  
  
Alexander shrugged. "Bumblebee. Don't ask."  
  
Daniel's mood soured as the baron helped Hazel up in the saddle, a men's saddle, where she, to his horror, sat with her legs astride like men. It was only now that Daniel realised she was wearing trousers underneath her skirts.  
  
Alexander unfastened the reins from the railing before placing them in Hazel's gloved hands.  
  
"Preposterous," Daniel grumbled.  
  
Alexander quirked an eyebrow, but his words were directed at Hazel when he spoke. "Are you comfortable? Are the stirrups at the right height?"  
  
"They're a little too far down for me. I know how to adjust them, don't worry."  
  
He helped her feet in the stirrups and she reached down to the adjust the straps. Daniel could see a small smile forming on her lips as she tested her weight against the stirrups.  
  
Daniel untied Daisy's reins and climbed up in the saddle (nowhere near as gracefully as Hazel had, which didn't improve his spirits much). The bay mare's ears pulled back as he shifted his weight and she tossed her head as if sensing his mood. Daniel clapped her neck a few times in compensation, but his heart wasn't in it.  
  
"Are we quite finished?" he asked without looking at the other two. He could feel Alexander staring at him, but to his relief it was Hazel who answered him.  
  
"Let us depart. We've a long way to go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to publish this story in shorter chapters to give myself some breathing room and a more forgiving schedule - I just wanted the introduction chapter to be longer to introduce all three of our main characters properly. As you all know, this year has been... exhausting and then some, and I haven't been coping that well with the extra stress, especially these past two months, so the last thing I want right now is to burn myself out with a fanfic. My 'standard' is 5-6K words per chapter, so 2-3K is a whole new experience for me. :P
> 
> And because some people have been worried about it: no, this story won't touch on anything related to Rebirth. My future projects likely will, however. You guys know I'm primarily a lore nerd and I loved all the new lore to bits (more than I loved the new game itself, haha). The Fair Ones will remain spoiler-free, though, and I'd prefer if no one discussed Rebirth in the comments section of this fic out of courtesy for readers who don't want to get spoiled.
> 
> Anyway, next chapter's coming in two weeks' time! Let me know what you thought and see you soon!


	3. In the water

_September 1839_ **  
  
Hazel  
  
**The journey wasn’t enjoyable. She rode behind the two others, doing her best to drown out their constant harping. Daniel was sulky, though she’d known to expect it, yet it still grated on her nerves all the same. He never dealt well with changes of any sort, however small.  
  
“I still can’t see why you’re so upset about this,” Alexander was saying. “The young lady made the decision herself. Surely you can trust your own sister’s judgment.”  
  
He didn’t bother looking at Daniel, which only seemed to irritate him further.  
  
“This isn’t about her judgment, it’s about safety,” he snapped back. Humlan tossed her head in displeasure at the raised voices. “You could have asked me before making plans behind my back—”  
  
“You’d only have declined, seeing as you’re reacting like this. Hardly any point in asking if she already knew what the answer would be.”  
  
Hazel saw him puff up with anger. She turned her attention to the landscape instead to spare herself the pain of watching him throw another tantrum.  
  
The path they were taking was narrow and steep, winding down another evergreen-covered hill, but Humlan seemed entirely unabashed, her steps firm even on the muddy ground. Hazel pet her neck in thanks. She didn’t feel as certain about riding alone as she pretended, something she suspected Alexander’s keen eyes had caught onto without saying. He’d known to pick her a steed that was calm and experienced and knew the landscape where she did not. She’d have to thank him later when Danny wasn’t present.  
  
Every now and then Hazel saw a glimpse of one of the many lakes in the area before it was swallowed by the woods once more. She thought back on the maps in Danny’s documents. Somewhere in these woods were burial mounds the university wanted explored and documented. To Hazel’s eyes the landscape varied little, but according to Alexander they were perhaps a three days’ ride from the first mounds. She felt a jolt of excitement at the thought. Perhaps her body was weak, but her eyes were keen and her quill-work swift. She couldn’t wait to see the places herself and mark down what she saw.  
  
A shiver went down her spine and she thought, just for a moment, that she heard the faintest sounds, almost as though human voices from the forest. Her head swivelled around as she looked for its source, but nothing materialised from the woods, and she did not hear the sound again.  
  


* * *

  
**Daniel  
  
**They made camp as soon as light started fading in the early afternoon, setting their tents below the lowest branches of enormous spruces. Their branches would shelter them from the rain, which was clearly on its way again; the clouds hanging above were heavy and dark, though they moved sluggishly in the fading wind.  
  
Daniel drew his cloak more tightly around himself, shivering. The cold air pushed underneath his clothes and did nothing to soothe the dull ache in his chest. He’d slept restlessly, and the disagreements with the baron hadn’t helped the heartburn or his nerves. It was so quiet, and every little sound seemed magnified in the silence. Sometimes the humming of the wind and the shivering leaves almost sounded like music if he focused on it long enough.  
  
Hazel and the baron were talking quietly by the fire. She sat on a log, wrapped in several blankets, while waiting for the fire to be hot enough for cooking. The baron dropped another log in the fire, which crackled merrily before engulfing it.  
  
“I’ll go get us some water,” Daniel said and picked up the bucket.  
  
“The lake’s to the south. Stay on the path and don’t go too far,” the baron told him without looking up.  
  
“Yeah, yeah.”  
  
He and Hazel resumed their quiet conversation. Its sounds faded away almost instantly when Daniel left the camp.  
  
They’d set up close to what had clearly once been an old farm. Not much remained of the cottage – its roof had collapsed long ago and the corner stones were swallowed by moss now, and a mostly-collapsed stone fence went around their camp site. Their horses stood grazing close to the cottage in what looked like an old animal paddock, seemingly content with the wet, yellowed grass.  
  
Daniel breathed in slowly, and the heartburn dissipated as he put distance between himself and the others. Septembers in London were bleak, and while the darkness was more severe here in the north he found it soothing in ways that he couldn’t quite explain. Mist was rolling towards him. It hung both light and heavy between trees and over the undergrowth, the moss, the dead leaves and mushrooms. Daylight was already turning dim and gray. The scent of damp, cold, dying things was everywhere, calling the nature to its annual rest. He thought it almost comforting.  
  
How silent his footsteps were on the rotting leaves, as though he, too, had stepped beyond the veil.  
  
A shiver went up his spine and he glanced around, but nothing out of the ordinary moved in the woods. A pair of jackdaws took flight as he got too close, and a squirrel was scaling the trunk of a pine tree, its claws leaving scratching noises as it climbed up. Daniel breathed more easily at the sight of them. He had no reason to worry if there were animals around.  
  
A sudden gust of wind made the remaining leaves of aspen trees shiver and tremble, and in the sound he thought he heard that music again. The leaves scattered, brown, yellow, graying, and as the gust died again Daniel realised it wasn't just the leaves; someone was playing.  
  
He stopped dead on his tracks. Hadn't the baron said there were settlements in these woods? There must be other houses, even farms if the cottage and the paths were anything to go by. Daniel hesitated. What if they'd made their camp on someone's lands? He continued walking towards the music. His Swedish was shaky at best, but he hoped the bucket would explain what business he was on if his language skills failed him.  
  
The treeline thinned ever so slightly as he made his way to the lake. The mist was thicker here, he noted. It swirled in thick, white clouds over the still, dark water, and across it reverberated the music. Someone was playing the violin. It made his heart race, though he couldn't quite see where it was coming from or who was playing.  
  
“H-hello? Hallå?” he called uncertainly. No answer. His boots slipped on the mossy ground as he made his way to the water's edge. The lake was much bigger than he'd anticipated. He couldn't even see the other side from the fog. Everywhere he looked was a sea of evergreen, with no sign of a house or a cottage anywhere. The place was as pristine and untouched as could be.  
  
Daniel followed the waterline to his right, careful not to dip his shoes in the water. The music was closer now. His heart skipped a beat; rocks jutted out from the lake, barely visible in the mist, and upon the largest of them sat a figure almost as pale as the mist itself. Daniel nearly dropped the bucket. It was a young man, a man so beautiful that he almost forgot to breathe. Long, mossgreen hair rippled over his shoulders as he played the violin, apparently too lost in its music to notice him. He was wearing nothing, long, bared legs still in the water.  
  
Daniel didn't know how long he stood there. His legs felt rooted to the spot. Some small voice in his head was telling him to turn around and run, another that he'd never heard or seen something more beautiful, that he didn't want to leave. He could feel the shirt sticking to his back with cold sweat. The longer he listened the harder his hands shook.  
  
_He's, it's not human,_ he thought wildly. _Whatever it is, it's not human!  
  
_A pair of crows took flight just then, cawing loudly, and Daniel started so badly that he slipped and landed on his knees in the water. The bucket fell from his hands with a clatter. The creature stopped playing abruptly. It leapt in the water, lips pulled back into a hiss, and its face was no longer the face of a lovely young man but an elongated maw with row upon row of needlesharp teeth, surrounded by long and wet matted hair that fell from its head almost like seaweed. Its eyes had narrowed menacingly, and though Daniel didn't understand the words it spat out at him, he recognised the tone all too well.  
  
“Ursäkta – I'm sorry,” he gasped and tried to scramble back on his feet.  
  
The creature bared its teeth and hissed once more before diving in the water with a great splash, vanishing from sight. Daniel didn't dare move and long minutes passed, but the creature didn't return. Slowly, he picked up the bucket. Something gleamed in the mud beneath it, and he picked it up with shaking fingers. It was an oddly-shaped piece of iron, like a bent clasp or buckle from clothing or something. The shape looked vaguely familiar, and he shoved it in his pocket.  
  
“Jag… jag tar vatten. All right? I'll just take some water and leave. That's all.” The lake didn't answer or protest. He filled the bucket and backed away, keeping the lake in his sight until he was sure he was far away enough from the creature. He was trembling all over as he hurried back to the camp, as quickly as he could manage.  
  


* * *

  
**Alexander  
  
**Hazel had retreated to her tent long ago, but Daniel showed no sign of doing the same. He scooted closer to the fire, hands outstretched. It was quite odd – Alexander knew he didn't like the dark and often complained over his watch duties. More than that he didn't like his company, and the feeling was, usually, mutual.  
  
Alexander returned his attention to the kettle. The water was almost boiling now, with small bubbles forming at the bottom. He put the lid back on and started looking for cups in his backbag.  
  
Somewhere in the forest a branch cracked and Daniel started. He'd been even jumpier than usual after returning to the camp. Alexander glanced at him from the corner of his eye, looking away hastily as not to alarm him further. Perhaps there had been something in the woods, after all. Even he couldn't always tell; not all of the creatures in these lands were familiar to him, and some of them knew how to mask their presence. He'd thought he'd felt something brushing the edges of his consciousness as they'd approached the lake, but the touch had been as light and fleeting as morning dew, gone before he'd had the chance to focus on it.  
  
He lifted the kettle from the fire, poured into a cup and got up. Daniel jumped again as he approached.  
  
“Here. You need something warm to drink,” Alexander said and offered the cup to him. Daniel stared at him, then took the cup hesitantly. Alexander noticed that his hands were trembling slightly.  
  
“Thank you, sir,” he replied.  
  
Alexander returned on the other side of the fire pit and poured himself a cup, too. They sat in silence for a time. Daniel wrapped his hands around the cup, warming them, before taking a sip. His eyes widened, surprised.  
  
“Why, this is tea,” he said, and took another taste. “Some finer variety of black tea from the Indies, if I'm not much mistaken.”  
  
“You're not mistaken. I believe it's a Srinagar brew – the name has slipped my mind.”  
  
Daniel smiled the first proper smile Alexander remembered seeing on his face since their first meeting. “I never expected to have a cup before returning to England. Why do you have tea leaves with you on such a tiring journey? Surely there are more important things to bring along.”  
  
Alexander shrugged. “Precisely because the journey is tiring. Such things may help keep one's morale high when the night is long and home far behind.”  
  
“At last something we can agree on, sir.”  
  
They lapsed into silence again. Daniel stared into his cup, eyes unfocused. Alexander leaned back to look at the sky. It was another overcast night, but every now and then he could just make out the half moon behind the clouds. The temperature was dropping fast. You could almost smell it in the air, the approach of winter; it wouldn't be too many weeks until the first snow.  
  
“Sir? May I ask something?”  
  
Slowly, he turned to look at Daniel. “What is it?”  
  
“Are there other things in these woods than the creatures we met earlier? There are, aren't there?”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Daniel swallowed. “I… I think I saw something. At the lake.” He brought the cup to his mouth again and drank. “I heard music from the lake and went towards it.”  
  
Alexander straightened. There was a sudden chill in the air that had nothing to do with the weather, and he fixed a stern look at Daniel. “You should have turned back. Why on earth did you approach it?”  
  
“I don't know why. It felt as if my feet moved on their own – like something was beckoning me towards it, and I had to heed the call.”  
  
Alexander was on his feet before Daniel had finished his sentence. He knelt next to the younger man.  
  
“Look at me,” Alexander said sternly. Daniel looked taken aback, but for once he did as he was told. Alexander scrutinised him carefully, but though he looked scared there was nothing out of the ordinary in his eyes. He felt the edges of mind as lightly as he could, barely touching it with his own, and found nothing. Alexander sighed in relief and let it go. “Its music carries an enchantment. It was likely trying to lure you in the water.”  
  
Daniel shivered visibly. “An enchantment?”  
  
“You're safe now, don't worry. Were you still under its effects you probably wouldn't be sitting there right now.”  
  
“What does it do?”  
  
“It lures its prey closer until it can drag it in the water and eat it.” Daniel stared at him, horrorstruck. “You said you saw the creature. What did it look like?”  
  
“A young human man. Beautiful – almost too beautiful to be really human, now that I think about it,” Daniel said quietly. “But I fell over and it got startled, and when I looked again it had turned into… I can't even begin to describe it. It was a horrid face, if one can even call it a face.”  
  
“Take more tea,” Alexander said and took the kettle. Daniel extended the cup towards him and allowed him to pour him another cup. “The creature's enchantment is in the music; while it's playing you'll see it as something beautiful, attractive even. Usually this is enough for the victim to lower their guard.”  
  
“But what was it?”  
  
“I believe it's called Näcken or Nix by the locals. It seems the lake is its territory and it didn't take kindly to our arrival.”  
  
“I hope it doesn’t come after us.”  
  
“It cannot, however much it may want to. It’s bound to the lake.” Alexander returned to his spot on the other side of the firepit. He refilled his own cup and drank slowly, thinking. To think he hadn’t heard the creature’s song or thought to warn the others. The boy had luck on his side; very few ever survived the Nix and lived to tell the tale.  
  
“I must apologise, Daniel.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Alexander didn’t answer immediately. He chose his words with care. There had been too many arguments between him and Daniel already, and he did not want to instigate another one. “I shouldn’t have sent you to the lake alone. The blame is mine and mine alone.”  
  
“It couldn’t be avoided. One of us has to remain with Hazel.”  
  
“And from now on it should be you.” He saw Daniel open his mouth, ready to protest, but Alexander lifted his hand to silence him. “Should anything happen it’s you she needs the most. You are young and whole; I am not. If we are to risk a life, I’d rather it be mine.”  
  
“Fine. Have it your way.”  
  
They did not speak again and Daniel retreated into his tent as soon as he’d finished his cup. Alexander tossed another log in the fire. His eyes stared unblinking into the flames as he listened; the crackle of fire, the wind. No birdsong or scurrying of animals reached his ears; even the horses stood unusually silent. His gelding, Wilhelm, tossed his head restlessly, pawing the ground with his hoof.  
  
_I know,_ Alexander thought at him. _Something moves in the forest._  
  
He took a deep breath and began to sing, so quietly that the noise was barely discernible over the fire. Its hum sent the flames flickering, leaves suddenly dancing as though picked up by the wind, and slowly, the presence began to move away until he felt it no more. Around them sounds of life returned to the forest little by little and the horses went back to their grazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having a water part in Amnesia is mandatory, sorry, I don't make the rules-
> 
> The Näcken or Nix (or Näkki in Finnish) is one of the creepiest creatures in Nordic folklore, at least if you ask me. He has many different names and no two stories about him seem to be exactly same, so I've spun my own version of him for this story. By the way, I've based many of the creatures that appear in this fic on the descriptions in Nordiska väsen by Johan Egerkrans - I have both the Swedish and Finnish editions, though I've mostly consulted the original Swedish when planning the fic.
> 
> Anyway, that's it for this update! The next chapter will be out in two weeks' time as usual, so see you guys then!


	4. Voices in the dark

_October 1839_  
 **Daniel  
  
** The first of October dawned as bleak and gray as ever. Neither he nor Hazel had slept well in the past week. She didn’t complain or make any mention of it, but Daniel knew she’d been awake; the shadows beneath her eyes were deeper with each morning, and when he lay awake at night he sometimes heard the rustle of quill on paper. Once or twice he heard her talking quietly with their guide, though the hour was late. He couldn’t find it in his heart to reprimand her. Even he could tell that the forest was restless, and whatever observed their journey kept them both up despite their best efforts to fall asleep.  
  
One morning he woke up to find the ground covered in frost. Frozen leaves crinkled beneath his soles, and he had to put on an extra shirt to stay warm. None of them spoke much as they broke their fast.  
  
Daniel pulled out the crumpled up map from his pocket and tried to trace their path so far with a finger. They’d left the village four days ago, and the change in weather said that winter was following right at their heels. He frowned, got up, and made his way towards the baron, who was affixing their luggage behind Wilhelm's saddle.  
  
Daniel cleared his throat. “Sir?”  
  
“Wait.” Wilhelm pawed the ground with his hoof as Alexander tightened the girth once more. He didn’t bother looking at Daniel when he said, voice tense, “I’m quite busy. Is this important?”  
  
A great start, Daniel thought dryly.  
  
“Begging your pardon, but shouldn’t we have reached the next town already?”  
  
“If my assumption is correct and the weather doesn’t worsen, we should be reaching our destination in two days’ time.”  
  
Daniel held out the map to him and pointed. “Why haven’t we taken the fastest route? According to the map there is a better road that we could’ve taken—”  
  
“Our current path is safer. The proper road follows one of the larger lakes for miles, and it’s best to be avoided at this time of the year.”  
  
“Hazel needs to get indoors as soon as possible,” Daniel said, frustrated. “If we divert our path and make for the road at once—”  
  
“We are not heading for the road,” the baron snapped. He pushed Daniel’s hand and the map away. “You know what lurks in these woods; you’ve seen it yourself. The lakes are dangerous and guarded by things even more vicious than what we’ve encountered so far.”  
  
“But—”  
  
“Enough. I refuse to put the young lady’s life in danger, however much you may insist on it.”  
  
“I’m not asking you to endanger her!” Daniel exclaimed. He thrust the crumbled map in his pockets, hands trembling with fury.  
  
“You are making a poor show of it,” Alexander retorted, equally angry.  
  
“Enough of the bickering, both of you,” came Hazel’s voice behind them, and they fell silent at once. She had already secured her saddle bags on Humlan's back. “We’d lose even more time by deviating from our course now. Let’s just get going before it starts raining.”  
  
“Of course, miss,” Alexander said. “Daniel, your luggage, please.”  
  
“Certainly,” he replied stiffly, but made no attempt to carry the conversation any more.  
  
Hazel's prediction came true an hour later. Daniel had expected snow, but the rain fell in an icy drizzle that melted the frost and froze them in their saddles. He pulled his hood as far down as it would go, shivering. The travelling cloak, thick enough for London's winters, felt like paper against this cold, and he no longer felt his toes after a couple of hours of riding in silence.

* * *

  
The rain continued to fall through the night and the next morning. The clouds were a heavy, unending coat of gray, the wind dead still, with no change in weather in sight. Their campfire sputtered and smoked in the drizzle. Its acrid smoke made his eyes water. On the other side of the fire pit Hazel coughed into her handkerchief so that her whole frame shook. The overhanging evergreen branches were all that shielded her from the rain.  
  
“Return to your tent,” Daniel urged her. “You'll catch your death at this rate.”  
  
She shook her head, drawing her cloak more tightly around herself. “My clothes will never start drying if I don't sit by the fire. It's much warmer here.”  
  
“You can have my blankets if you're cold.”  
  
”That's not a good idea. Let's keep at least some of our belongings dry,” Alexander intervened.  
  
Daniel pursed his lips, but it didn't stop the acidic feeling rising to his throat.  
  
“We wouldn't be in this situation if we'd just taken the road,” he said pointedly. “I bet we'd already have a roof above our heads and a warm supper in our bellies.”  
  
The lines around the baron's mouth tightened, but his voice was decidedly calm when he spoke. “If the rain doesn't relent it's best that we wait until tomorrow. The terrain ahead is treacherous and the rains will have weakened it.”  
  
Hazel extended her hands towards the fire. “How do people traverse these roads if it gets like that?”  
  
“They wait for winter frost to settle in, is my guess.”  
  
“How nice for them. Shall we take a leaf out of their book and just sit here waiting for winter, then?” Daniel said. He hadn't mean to raise his voice or even speak at all, yet the words came out so snappishly that the other two turned to stare at him. He found that couldn't meet their eyes.  
  
“Is something the matter, Danny?”  
  
“Leave him be, miss. There's no point.”  
  
“Oh, shut up. Quit telling us what we should or shouldn't do.”  
  
“What on earth has gotten into you?” Alexander asked.   
  
“Nothing. Everything is just perfect.” He laughed, a cold, hollow laugh that made even his own skin crawl. “I'm delighted to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with a man who's deliberately taking us the longest way possible, just to ensure we're as wet, cold and miserable as rats, without shelter or supplies—“  
  
“Danny!” Hazel exclaimed, scandalised.  
  
“Why are you defending him? For all we know he's trying to get us killed!”  
  
Alexander stood up. Daniel did the same.  
  
“You need to calm down,” the baron said.  
  
“You can sod right off!” He felt his hands shaking, not from the cold but from anger. It made him feel almost light-headed. “I never wanted you along in the first place, and I'm glad to know I was right!”  
  
“Danny—“  
  
“Leave me alone!”  
  
And with that he turned at his heels and ran. Whereto, he didn't know; he was barely watching where he was going. His feet flew over twigs and branches, leapt over mossy rocks and rotting, slippery leaves almost as though on their own as he ran blindly into the woods. He was vaguely aware of Hazel yelling after him, but no one pursued him, much like he'd anticipated. Someone had to stay with Hazel at all times, and he knew the baron wouldn't leave her, no matter how much Daniel despised or accused him.  
  
He knew the baron was right, he knew he had no right to attack him like that. He knew he was being childish. The truth only fed his frustration.  
  
What on earth is wrong with me? he thought over and over, the only coherent thought in his head. He was getting dizzy; how far was he already? Nothing in the landscape looked familiar. Just forest, forest everywhere, no landmarks that his eyes were accustomed to. Mist was creeping back into the woods. He'd never find his way back in the dark, he knew, but his feet had long since stopped obeying.  
  
He couldn't tell how long he'd been running when he at last came to a halt, leaning against the trunk of a birch for support. For a few minutes all he heard was the sound of his own laboured breathing. Every breath hurt to take, the cold air searing in his throat, and the world swam in front of him.  
  
Daniel looked around, listening intently, but all was quiet. He pulled the hood of his cloak up and started walking.  
  
“What am I going to do when it gets dark?” he said quietly. He didn't have an answer. Somewhere in the distance a bird cried, an eerie, echoing call. Evening was approaching fast. Every now and then he heard the faint singing of blackbirds, just out of sight. There was something deeply mournful in it that soothed his heart, and he let his feet wander towards it, the birdsong as good a direction as any.  
  
The mist was thickening. The rhyme he'd heard Hazel humming was stuck in his head, and almost instinctively, he began to hum it, too. He didn't know the words; he wasn't sure there were any words, either.  
  
Now that the anger was gone all he felt was exhaustion, his mind as blissfully quiet as the woodlands. He found the iron knot in his pocket again; he'd forgotten to show it to Alexander. Daniel shook himself mentally. There was no point in thinking about the baron when he'd never see him again…  
  
To his left someone tittered.  
  
Daniel started. He looked around wildly, heart suddenly hammering in his chest, but there was no one to be seen.  
  
“Hello?” he called out.  
  
No answer.  
  
Seconds passed, eight, nine, ten, and then he heard it again. It was faint, but yes, that was a human sound. Laughter, like that of children at play. A farmhouse, this deep in the woods?  
  
He forced his legs to obey and started making towards the sound. It was only now that he'd allowed himself to think about warmth and shelter that he realised how very cold he was.  
  
“Hello? Is anyone there?” he called again, louder this time. The echo was answered by another ringing, silvery laugh, and he found himself speeding up. Perhaps the people just did not understand English. How did the words go again, he wondered, and repeated his question in shaky Swedish.  
  
His heart jolted when a voice answered.  
  
 _Here. Come here.  
  
_ There was a clearing ahead, he could just make it out between trees, and he broke into a jog. He found himself on a meadow of tall, yellowed grass, with the stems of winter-dead flowers jutting out from the ground. On the other side of the meadow was light, golden and inviting. The voices were coming from the same direction.  
  
“Hallå?”  
  
He took a step forward, and suddenly the air changed, electrified. He gasped and covered his face in fear.  
  
The silvery voices laughed again.  
  
Slowly, he dared to open his eyes, and almost fell over in surprise. The meadow wasn't wilted and dead, no, but green, lush, and covered in beautiful summer flowers unlike any he'd ever seen. The wind that caught in his hair was warm, and there were lights hanging from the trees like many-coloured lanterns, though he could not see what was casting the light. The golden light was coming for a large bonfire on the other side of the meadow, and tall, lithe figures danced around it merrily. They knew he was there; he heard them call for him in their strange tongue, saw them throw glances at him with flashing eyes.  
  
 _Come, come to us, traveller,_ they said, though he knew not how he understood. The words were not a language he recognised, yet he heard them in his head as though he'd always known them.  
  
And suddenly, he realised.  
  
Daniel clapped a hand in front of his mouth to keep himself from yelling. A cold dread was spreading into his limbs, but his feet felt frozen to the ground when he tried to back away. The voices giggled again, amused. He tried to pull away again, but nothing happened. Slowly, he glanced down. Mushrooms formed a perfect circle around his feet.  
  
He was trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the cliffhanger, and see you guys in two weeks.
> 
> :)


	5. The curse

_October 1839_  
 **Alexander  
  
** Birds took off in fright as he thundered past on horseback, Wilhelm's hooves effortlessly flying over undergrowth and tree roots as though he knew where they were. Alexander sent out another searching thought, but met only thin air. He cursed under his breath, heels digging into Wilhelm's sides.  
  
The trail was growing cold already. All they had to go by were the signs Daniel's sprint through the forest bed had left behind. Broken branches, fallen leaves and footprints in the moss, in the mud, naught else. Alexander couldn't understand it; there was no way he could be so far already that he'd not sense a trace of him anywhere. His thoughts were at once drawn to ponds and lakes, shallow enough to be treacherous, deep enough to be deadly, and his stomach clenched unpleasantly. He wouldn't be able to face Hazel if he didn't find her brother alive.  
  
“Daniel!”  
  
All that answered him was his own echo. He pulled on the reins and brought Wilhelm to a halt. Daylight had faded rapidly within the half an hour he'd been riding, and even his eyes took their time to adjust to the dark. Wilhelm tossed his head and Alexander pet his neck, scanning the environment carefully.  
  
“That way, boy,” he muttered, and encouraged the gelding into a brisk trot once more.  
  
He let his eyes slip closed momentarily as he felt the air ahead with tentative, fleeting touches, pulling back almost instantly before he could leave traces of himself. No, not a whisper of Daniel that he could recognise. He felt the forest layer by layer. There were so many presences all around him that he could only brush against them for a split-second, lest he lose himself in them. Birds, deer, foxes, badgers, prey and predators; at the edges of his vision other creatures were waking to the night, and he sent an encouraging thought to Wilhelm to urge him to go faster.  
  
“Daniel!” he shouted again, to no avail, much as he'd anticipated. “Daniel! Answer me!”  
  
He almost slid off as Wilhelm came to a sudden halt. The horse took a step, then another backwards, tossing his head in displeasure.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
Before he could ask again Alexander heard it. A fell voice, then another and another, coming deeper from the woods, laughing, if something so devoid of joy could be called laughter. It scared off a flock of jackdaws from a nearby tree and they all took off, cawing, further startling Wilhelm. Alexander ran his hand across the gelding's neck soothingly and nudged him with his heels, muttering, “steady, boy, steady.”  
  
It took a few more encouraging thoughts at Wilhelm to convince him to keep walking towards the sounds. Very carefully, Alexander pulled out his bow and took out an arrow from the quiver. His hands were steady as he held the bow at the ready, but a chill that had nothing to do with fear had settled in his bones.  
  
There was nothing the fair ones could do to harm him, but Daniel, Daniel was another thing entirely. He should have known, he should have guessed. It wasn't just Daniel's presence that he couldn't feel anywhere; it was as though a blanket had been pulled over this part of the woodlands, dimming his senses, like a soot-blackened spot on a map.  
  
 _Hurry,_ Alexander thought, and nudged Wilhelm's sides with his heels once more.  
  
One by one small lights flickered into existence the further he rode, the sound of laughter and song and faint music coming closer. He pulled back the bowstring, knuckles whitening from gripping the bow. Ahead lay an empty meadow, mist-shrouded and dark.  
  
“Daniel!” he called again. No one, nothing answered. Alexander relaxed and slid down from Wilhelm's back, bow lowered.  
  
No, the meadow wasn't as empty as he'd believed. Something had left footprints in the soil.  
  
 _Daniel_ , he thought. The yellowed flower stems and withering grasses trembled then stilled, his searching touch upsetting them momentarily. _Daniel. Are you there?_  
  
He started as the thought hit something solid.  
  
 _Help me!_ said the presence, terrified. He didn't need to see him to recognise Daniel at once. _Where are you? I can't see you!  
  
Where are _you _? What happened?  
  
I don't know. I can't move!  
  
_Alexander's eyes darted around the meadow, searching, until he saw it. A fairy ring, perhaps one meter in diameter. The prints lead directly to it and then vanished as though the person who'd left them had evaporated.  
  
Alexander marched towards the circle, then stepped over it and walked directly into a wall of thick fog. It was like plunging into an icy lake; the sheer shock of it stole all breath out of his lungs. Daniel stood inside the ring, his back towards Alexander. In the mist figures moved, weaving in and out of sight as though dancing around Daniel.  
  
Alexander reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. Daniel started but didn't turn around.  
  
“It's all right, Daniel. It's me,” Alexander said quietly. “Are you all right?”  
  
“I can't move,” he repeated. There was a panic-stricken note to his voice. He was trembling. His shoulders twitched, as though attempting to turn to look at him, but nothing happened. “They're- they're not letting me go—”  
  
“Just calm down, Daniel,” Alexander said, stressing his name purposely. The air vibrated, but the circle didn't break.  
  
“I can't believe I was so stupid! I walked right into it without ever noticing—”  
  
“Daniel, you need to stay calm. Close your eyes.”  
  
“What for?”  
  
“Just do it!”  
  
With an expression that spoke of extreme reluctance, Daniel did. There were thin strands of cobwebs in his hair, from which drops of dew were clinging. The creatures trilled. No, not just his hair. It went around his neck like a razor-sharp wire, digging into his skin every time he breathed, tightening its hold.  
  
Alexander felt the air move around him, and one of the voices whispered in his head.  
  
 _It's no use, half-life. You are powerless_ _on this side_ _.  
  
_ Alexander readied his bow again, pulled the bowstring and fired before the creature had finished the sentence. The arrow sailed right through it, its body nothing but mist, but the laughter died down instantly.  
  
“Undo the enchantment,” Alexander hissed. He drew another arrow from the quiver. His teeth grit together with effort as he collected his will and concentrated all of it on the arrow just as he fired. This time it rent a tear in the fog as it passed through it, and silver blood splattered on the ground.  
  
The creatures were screeching, their shrill voices no longer harmonious or beautiful.  
  
“What are you doing?” Daniel shouted, eyes wide open.  
  
“Trying to keep you alive, idiot! Keep your eyes shut or I'll shoot you!”  
  
He fired another arrow, then another, sweat pouring down his forehead from exhaustion. The creatures were no longer mist-like shadows; he could see their faces clearly, inhumanly beautiful and contorted with anger that could have stilled the blood in a mortal's veins. Blue veins were clearly visible beneath their translucent, moon-white skins.  
  
Their hold on Daniel wasn't breaking. Numerous threads extended from his limbs to all directions as fleet-footed creatures danced around him, weaving new threads with each lap. Alexander reached for another arrow, but his shaking hand found just an empty quiver.  
  
 _Your strength is spent, half-life,_ the tallest of the creatures said, its smile cold, sharp.  
  


* * *

  
**Daniel  
  
** Alexander's hands were just a blur as he fired arrow after arrow. Daniel wanted to close his eyes again, yet he found himself staring – whether out of fear or amazement, even he couldn't tell.  
  
The creatures were hissing something. He couldn't make out the words; every time he tried to concentrate a wave of pain shot through his skull. He saw Alexander reach for his now-empty quiver, and one of the creatures moved closer. The baron's reaction was instantenous; he threw the bow on the ground and pulled a knife from his belt. Instead of attacking the creature, however, he turned towards Daniel and brought the knife to his neck.  
  
“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled.  
  
“Don't move,” Alexander snarled.  
  
Daniel felt something tugging at his neck, tightening. “Have you lost your mind? What are you doing?”  
  
It was only then that he became aware of how cold his neck was, as though something icy had been wrapped around it. He tried to move his fingers, but something cold was tangled around them, too, holding them firmly in place, and suddenly, he understood.  
  
He saw a glimmer of steel from the corner of his eye, just a second too late. One of the creatures had leapt towards the baron, a sword at hand, and without pausing to think Daniel shouted at the top of his lungs, “Alexander! Watch out!”  
  
Several things happened at once. Daniel felt a current run through his spine all of a sudden and air flowed into his lungs as the feeling of pressure around his neck vanished. He nearly lost his balance as whatever had been holding him still retracted. The baron turned, his knife deflecting the sword at the last second.  
  
The creatures were all staring at Daniel as if he'd grown a second head. Alexander lunged at him, caught him around the waist, and they both fell. The flowering meadow vanished at once, and Daniel found himself staring up at yellowed grass and clouded skies once more. It took him a few seconds to realise that he was freezing.  
  
He yelled as something warm nudged the top of his head.  
  
“Calm down, it's just Wilhelm,” Alexander grumbled. He got up, dusting himself off.  
  
Daniel sat up, staring around wildly, but the creatures were gone. Wilhelm was still sniffing his hair curiously.  
  
“What happened? Where did the creatures go?” he asked, voice breaking.  
  
“Something must have broken the enchantment,” Alexander answered without looking at him. He approached the circle of mushrooms gingerly. His bow and arrows were strewn across the meadow. He paused to collect each of them, making sure not to step inside the circle.  
  
Daniel felt his neck, expecting to find a cut, but his hands were clean and unbloodied when they fell back on his lap. If only he had one of Hazel's handkerchiefs to mop up the cold sweat from his brow.  
  
“Hazel,” he said suddenly. His head snapped back up. “Hazel! Is she all right? Where is she?”  
  
“Waiting at the camp.”  
  
“You shouldn't have left her alone.”  
  
“She's safer staying at the camp, as you just saw. And I did not leave her unprotected, if that's what you're concerned about.” Alexander dropped the arrows back in the quiver one by one, then slung it back over his shoulder. “Let's hurry back. We shouldn't keep her waiting.”  
  
Daniel nodded. His legs shook beneath him as he struggled to get up. Sighing, Alexander thrust his hand at him and Daniel took it, allowing him to pull him back up.  
  
“Thank you, sir,” he mumbled.  
  
“Enough with the 'sir'. I liked it better when you called me by my name.”  
  
“When have I ever done that?”  
  
Alexander quirked an eyebrow. He looked more tired than Daniel recalled seeing him before. “Just now, when that thing tried to stab me.”  
  
Daniel's face flooded with colour as he realised Alexander was right. So much for his good manners.  
  
Another sigh. “Let's not go back to tedious formalities.”  
  
“I cannot call a nobleman by his given name. It's not proper.”  
  
“I am a nobleman in my country only, Daniel; here, we are both foreigners. Tired foreigners, I might add, in the middle of nowhere.”  
  
“But—”  
  
“It is my _request_ that you address me by name. Is it not improper for a gentleman to decline another's request?”  
  
Daniel stared at him. Two base desires were wrangling with one another in his brain; the desire to be polite, and the desire to maintain as much distance between himself and Alexander as possible. Finally, after a very long silence, he gave up.  
  
“All right, all right. As your lordship wishes.”  
  
“Alexander,” Alexander said pointedly.  
  
“Alexander,” he repeated. Alexander flashed him a wry smile, and Daniel knew he'd been defeated.  
  
He started again as Wilhelm bumped his muzzle against his shoulder.  
  
“How are we getting back? It's pitch dark already.”  
  
“Wilhelm can carry us both.”  
  
Daniel pet the gelding's neck. He was quite bit taller than what Daniel was used to, with the top of his head just barely reaching up to his withers, and once again without a saddle; it seemed Alexander had left the camp in a hurry.  
  
“I'll boost you up,” Alexander said, undoubtedly seeing how badly he was shaking. Daniel couldn't find the energy to protest and just nodded.  
  
Even with Alexander boosting him just climbing on horseback sapped him of whatever strength he still had left, and he clung to Wilhelm's mane for support, certain that he'd just fall off like a ragdoll should the horse take even one sidestep.  
  
“Steady,” Alexander told Wilhelm, and climbed up behind Daniel effortlessly.  
  
Daniel tried not to flinch when an arm wrapped around his waist, holding him firmly against Alexander.  
  
“Are you comfortable?” his voice asked by Daniel's ear.  
  
Daniel didn't answer, stiff as a board. Alexander took the reins in his free hand and a moment later Wilhelm turned and started walking back to the woods.  
  
Daniel wasn't sure how Alexander saw where they were going. The forest was black as the maw of hell itself, the night clouded over so that not even moonlight aided their journey. He forced his eyes shut. He was too exhausted to even feel properly afraid of the dark. Alexander was humming something quietly, his form warm and almost comforting against Daniel's back. It was strange, he admitted, strange how safe he felt with Alexander's arm around him like this, holding him still the way he'd held Hazel before.  
  
“Sleep,” Alexander murmured. “I'll wake you when we're there.”  
  
He wanted to protest that it was a ludicrous idea, that he was cold and miserable in less than ideal company, but the word was like a command. _Sleep._ His mind was too weary to form words, the promise of sleep near irresistible. Slowly, Daniel's head lolled back against Alexander's chest, and he drifted off to Wilhelm's swaying gait.  
  
It felt as though no time had passed at all before Alexander cleared his throat and said, “we're back, Daniel.”  
  
Daniel yawned. He could just make out the campfire ahead, and as they got closer Wilhelm whickered. A few seconds later two other horses answered his greeting.  
  
“Danny!”  
  
Hazel scrambled out of her tent, still fully dressed. She sprinted to meet them, and Daniel noticed that there were strange marks on the soil in front of and around their tents, almost like sigils or runes of some kind.  
  
“Thank goodness,” she panted. “I was starting to fear you'd both gotten lost.”  
  
“You shouldn't run,” Daniel told her, voice coming hoarser than before.  
  
“Don't you dare start after the scare you gave me!”  
  
“In this I agree with your brother,” Alexander interrupted. He shifted and handed the reins to Daniel. “It's not good for you to run in your condition.”  
  
Alexander slid down, then offered his hand to Daniel.  
  
“I can manage on my own,” Daniel said. He was painfully aware of Hazel staring at him anxiously. What on earth had possessed him to cause her such worry? How could he be so selfish?  
  
He made to copy Alexander and hop down gracefully, but his arms and legs felt like water. He only had a split-second to realise he was going to fall on his backside before Alexander had caught him in his arms.  
  
“Careful,” Alexander chided. Daniel felt colour rising to his face again, and he did't quite meet the baron's eyes as he helped him find his balance again.  
  
“I'm all right,” he said, and forced himself to look at Hazel with a smile. “Just tired.”  
  
“You should lay down, both of you. It's late,” Alexander said. “And don't worry about getting up early. Sleep as long as you need to. I'll watch the camp and the horses.”  
  
It took Daniel a long time to stop shaking. He felt marginally better in a dry change of clothes and with two quilts wrapped around him. Every inch of him ached as though he'd taken a beating, and he knew his feet wouldn't be happy with him come morning.  
  
His eyes flew open when he heard a hushed whisper. “Danny? Are you decent?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
The tent flap opened and Hazel crawled in with a quilt and pillow of her own. She paused to close the flap properly, then snuck closer and flopped down next to Daniel, propping the pillow below her head.  
  
“Can't sleep?” he asked. She shook her head.  
  
“I'm afraid that I'll find you gone again if I fall asleep.”  
  
“I'm sorry I made you worry so,” he said quietly, and he meant it, too.  
  
“Don't ever do that again.”  
  
“I promise I won't.”  
  
Hazel shuffled closer and, after a second's hesitation, Daniel wrapped his arm around her. She felt like nothing but air against him, and for a while he remembered sleeping next to her like this when Hazel had still been small. She had often sneaked to sleep in his room when their parents' arguing had kept her up.  
  
“You're still shivering,” Hazel said, her voice muffled underneath the quilts. “You didn't catch a cold, did you?”  
  
“It's not that. I… I ran into something in the woods.”  
  
“What happened?”  
  
He closed his eyes and tried to make sense of what he'd seen earlier. He took a deep breath and told Hazel everything he remembered, though he did leave out the conversation he'd had with Alexander afterwards.  
  
“What do you suppose those creatures were?” she asked.  
  
“I'm not sure. You're probably better off asking Alex- I mean, the baron about it.”  
  
“What luck that he got there just in time.”  
  
I'll have to thank him tomorrow, he thought.  
  
They didn't talk any more after that, and it wasn't long until Hazel was fast asleep. She didn't wake up to cought once during the night.  
  


* * *

  
It was barely light out when Daniel got up. He picked up his day clothes carefully so as to not wake Hazel up, and laid out his quilts over her before quietly crawling out of the tent. To his relief Alexander wasn't in sight, and he was able to get properly clothed in peace.  
  
A fire was still burning in the firepit, and the blackened kettle hung above it. Their cups stood in a pile close to the fire. Daniel thought he smelled tea; his nose was too stuffy to tell for sure. He crouched by the fire and lifted the lid of the kettle carefully.  
  
It is tea, he remarked, delighted. He picked up one of the cups and poured into it, then sat down.  
  
His pocket watch told him it was just past 9 o'clock. The sun was as late to rise these days as he was, Daniel thought. Pale daylight was peeking between trees, and he realised the sky was clear for the first time in weeks. His breath released white vapour every time exhaled, blurring the landscape momentarily, and tender morning mist still lingered in the woods and the valleys below. He drank his tea in silence, watching the sun's slow climb over the treetops.  
  
Wilhelm looked up from his grazing, his ears perked up. He huffed expectantly, as though in greeting, and this time Daniel knew to expect it when a familiar figure materialised from the woods. Alexander seemed in no hurry to return. He made his way up the hill slowly, wading in the moss like one might in knee-deep water, bow and quiver slung over his shoulder once again. As he got closer Daniel started and almost dropped his cup; was that Alexander, after all? His features were familiar and alien at once, and for a second Daniel's thoughts were drawn to the creatures of the night before.  
  
He looked up, noticing Daniel, and smiled. “You're up early,” he said in Alexander's voice.  
  
Daniel shook himself mentally. It was Alexander. Of course it was. The mist was playing tricks on his eyes.  
  
“Out hunting again?” Daniel asked, noticing the dead bird he was carrying. “What is that?”  
  
“A grouse. I assumed we'd like to eat properly before heading out. We've a long day ahead.”  
  
He dropped the bird, the quiver and the bow by the fire pit. Wilhelm huffed again. Alexander made straight for the paddock where their horses were grazing. He paused to tear up grass and offer it to the gelding, who snatched it off his palm in a flash.  
  
Daniel observed Alexander carefully, though he couldn't quite say why. Something about him seemed to draw his eye today, and the fact that he couldn't put his finger on what it was bothered him. With a sigh Daniel put his cup down and got up. He approached the paddock and came to a halt behind the other man.  
  
“Sir- I mean, Alexander,” he began and corrected himself. Alexander glanced over his shoulder. “About yesterday...”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Daniel met his eye and forgot what he was about to say. Had his eyes always been this bright, this intense? Daniel looked away hastily.  
  
“I must thank you for what you did. You rescued me. I don't know if I deserved that, if I'm wholly honest.”  
  
“There is no need to thank me. I hardly did anything.”  
  
Daniel shifted his balance. “Well, it certainly wasn't me. I don't know what broke the enchantment.”  
  
“Hmm,” was Alexander's answer. Daniel waited for him to say something, but he did not. Instead he knelt down, extracted a brush from one of the saddle bags, and started brushing dirt off Wilhelm's coat. His expression was sullen with his brows drawn into a frown and his mouth a thin line, and Daniel could tell he was deliberately avoiding something.  
  
“You're still angry at me, aren't you?” Daniel said finally.  
  
“I am not angry.”  
  
“Yes, you are. I'm sorry for what I said. I shouldn't have lost my temper.”  
  
“I'm not angry, and you shouldn't have stormed off into the woods like an idiot,” Alexander interrupted. “I do not fault you for losing your patience, though. I know you don't like me, and the recent days can hardly have improved your opinion of me.”  
  
Daniel winced. It sounded much worse when Alexander put it so bluntly. “I really am sorry.”  
  
“You're painfully honest, you know that?” A sigh. “Whatever. I suppose I should appreciate that.”  
  
“So what were those creatures? Elves? Fae?”  
  
“Something along those lines, yes. They're territorial and not fond of humans, as you may have noticed.”  
  
Daniel suppressed a shiver. He pushed his hands in his pockets, thinking, and suddenly his hand brushed against something hard. Surprised, he pulled it out of his pocket. Upon his palm rested the piece of iron that he'd found earlier.  
  
“Alexander, do you know what this is?” He held it out to the other man. “I thought it some kind of a buckle or clasp when I first found it.”  
  
Alexander took it from him, hand brushing against Daniel's briefly.  
  
“Ah,” he muttered, and Daniel thought he looked almost relieved. He held it up against the light, examining it from all angles. “This explains things.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
He dropped it back on Daniel's palm.  
  
“It's a protective charm – likely worn as a pendant by its original owner. You had it on you yesterday?”  
  
“In my pocket, yes.”  
  
“Well, there you go. That may very well have been what protected you.”  
  
“I'm not so sure. Why didn't it keep me from them in the first place? Why did it only start working afterwards?”  
  
Alexander shrugged and continued brushing Wilhelm. Daniel slipped the charm back in his pocket.  
  
“It's just odd,” Daniel said slowly, thinking. The details of his encounter could have been water that he was trying hold in cupped hands; they eluded him the harder he tried to recall them, slipping between his fingers. He frowned. “You showed up, then something happened – the enchantment just lost its power. It doesn't make any sense.”  
  
“What does it matter? Just be thankful that they didn't eat you.” Alexander tossed the brush back in the saddle bag and took out a metal comb instead. “I'll get started on breakfast soon. Get us some water from the brook if you've nothing to do.”  
  
“Sure,” Daniel said, knowing that he'd just been dismissed. He stole one more furtive glance at the baron, then picked up a bucket and set down the hill.  
  
“And keep that charm in a safe place. Don't lose it,” Alexander called after his retreating back.  
  
Daniel could only just keep himself from rolling his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexander wins this round 1-0. Better luck next time, Daniel.
> 
> I was watching The Witcher around the time I started editing the first draft of this fic, months ago, and Alexander's very pointed hmm's in this AU may have been borrowed from Geralt. The yellow eyes I've been giving him all these years don't exactly help. *cough* That's where the intentional similarities end, though admittedly it's very funny to imagine Alexander being even half as buff and rugged-looking as Geralt.
> 
> It's supposedly a holiday season right now, so happy something or another if you celebrate anything, have a merry crisis, and take this as my humble gift to you all. Thanks for all the lovely comments so far, and see you guys in two weeks as usual! <3


	6. Crossing borders

_October 1839_  
 **Hazel  
**  
It took them two full days of nonstop riding to reach the town of Ed, which was much bigger than the town they'd passed previously. The last few hours of their journey took them past a long, narrow lake resting in a crevasse between evergreen-covered hills; the view was breath-taking, even in the bleak October light. The lake was much larger than anything Hazel had ever imagined. It seemed to stretch on forever into the distance for miles and miles until vanishing from sight.  
  
“How far does it go?” she asked Alexander.  
  
“All the way across the Norwegian border, for some 40 miles in total.”  
  
“Wow,” she breathed, and her eyes were drawn to the lake once more.  
  
The village was nestled neatly between this lake and another, with houses and farms dotting the banks of both. To Hazel's surprise the main road looked well-travelled, despite the isolated location, and several horse-drawn wagons passed them. People stared at them curiously, and Hazel found herself staring back. Their clothes were strange, and she supposed hers must have been equally strange to them as well, judging by the amount of open-mouthed pointing from the children.  
  
“I'm surprised that there are so many people out. It's so cold today,” Daniel remarked. He was shivering visibly.  
  
“Cold to you, perhaps,” Alexander said. “They're used to it.”  
  
Bells were ringing and soon enough Hazel noticed the silhouette of a church on top of a hill. More people were pouring out of the church as they rode towards it, and with a jolt she realised it was Sunday. Weeks and days felt meaningless in the wilderness, and unlike Daniel, she hadn't thought to bring a calendar with her.  
  
The local inn was a handsome three-storey wooden house. She and Daniel received a room in the topmost floor, which had its windows facing the smaller of the lakes, which the innkeeper said was called Lilla Le. Daniel started unpacking their clothes at once while Hazel pushed one of the windows open.  
  
“What a view,” Hazel said, delighted. “And the air here is so fresh. It must be lovely come winter.”  
  
“Winter? Why winter?”  
  
She laughed. “Just imagine the sunlight dancing on the frozen lake, and all those trees covered with snow. I wonder if the ice gets thick enough for skating?”  
  
“Close the window, Hazel. The cold is not good for you.”  
  
“I am not so sure. I feel like I can breathe more easily here,” she replied, but shut the window nonetheless.  
  
Daniel had already folded her spare clothes into neat little piles on one of the beds. Her notebook and writing equipment were on the bedside table, right next to a half-empty medicine vial.  
  
“You've not taken your morning dosage,” Daniel noted, frowning. “Are you feeling all right? I've noticed that you're taking less of your medicine nowadays.”  
  
“I told you, it's easier to breathe here. I think getting away from all the London smog was good for me.”  
  
“Doctor Tate specifically said—“  
  
“I know what he said. The medicine is for my coughing fits, and I've not had one in two days.”  
  
“Hazel...”  
  
“Do you not trust my judgmend? About _my_ own condition?”  
  
He watched her with his lips pursed, worry etched into every feature of his face, but Hazel stared right back, unflinching. He sighed.  
  
“Please at least take your evening dosage tonight,” Daniel said. “For me, if not for yourself. All right?”  
  
Hazel made a face, but nodded. “If it makes you worry less.”  
  
“I don't think there's anything that'll lessen my worry at this point.”  
  
He lifted the other bag on his bed, but Hazel touched his shoulder before he could start unpacking it.  
  
“I'll do it. You go take a bath and get changed into something dry,” she told him.  
  
Daniel looked hesitant. “Will you be all right on your own?”  
  
“Alexander is only one room away, silly, and you know he has ears everywhere. Go on.”  
  
An hour later she had sorted their dirty clothes into a wash basket, taken out Daniel's documents and journal, and changed into her favourite pearl-gray afternoon dress. The sun was already low in the sky, but the room was warm and well-lit by golden light – a servant had stopped by and lit a fire in the fireplace not long after Daniel's departure. Hazel set her notebook on the desk, wrapped a shawl around herself and sat down, hand itching for the quill.  
  
She knew that she was more tired than she felt, but as soon as she placed the tip of the quill on an empty page she stopped thinking about everything else. All that mattered was her and her words on paper, and they had all the time in the world for each other.  
  
Daylight dimmed and disappeared, and rain began to pound against the roof.

* * *

**Daniel  
  
** It stopped raining on the third morning after their arrival. The pause had been welcome, and it was with renewed vigour that Daniel left the inn with Hazel at his heels, their clothes clean and warm again.  
  
Humlan stood waiting outside the stables, her reins tied to a pole. Hazel climbed in the saddle unassisted, and Daniel couldn't resist smiling despite the gnawing worry. Perhaps she was right in her assumption that the colder climate was improving her condition. Her cheeks had a healthy colour upon on them, and she had spent most of the past days working on her journal without little breaks in-between. Daniel stuffed their notebooks and writing equipment in the saddle bags and shut them carefully.  
  
The door of the inn opened again and Alexander came striding out. He, too, had dressed for the weather; a thick travelling cloak was wrapped over a pale gray coat, much plainer than anything he'd worn in the past.  
  
“So?” Daniel asked at once. “Do we know where it is?”  
  
“Perhaps a two or three hours' walk from the village. I spoke with the local priest yesterday. The place is largely avoided by the locals, but there should be a path where the eastern road splits.”  
  
“Are you sure we cannot all ride?”  
  
“The path goes through an uninhabited part of the forest,” Alexander said. “We'll have to leave the pony to wait for us when it gets too narrow.”  
  
He and Daniel exchanged looks. Daniel could tell that it wasn't the path that was the problem; whatever lived in those woods would have scared their horses. Daniel took Humlan's reins from Hazel and they set off.  
  
“Did you bring my journal as well?” Hazel asked.  
  
“It's in the bag with mine.”  
  
She smiled, and they lapsed into silence.  
  
Daniel's heart soared as they followed the road out of the village. The houses became fewer and fewer the further they went. They had an unobstructed view of Lilla Le from above until the road turned towards the woodlands once more. Even so late in the year the place had a certain beauty to it, he thought. Moss-covered hills rose on both sides, and the dense forest of tall, green fir trees made the woodlands appear less barren than he'd expected. Tufts of gray-green lichen hung from the branches, and a thin layer of frost still covered the ground in shadowy places.  
  
Alexander had assumed the lead. Leaves danced in his wake, wind catching in his cloak, and Daniel found himself staring at him again. The man had been avoiding him after the incident, he was sure of it – he vanished from breakfast and supper as soon as Daniel entered the room as if to avoid having to sit with him. He'd scarcely seen him in the past two days.  
  
His long hair rippled over his shoulders as he walked, almost as white as the fair ones' had been. Something about him seemed to catch Daniel's eye, though he wasn't sure what he expected to see. The air about him felt different, somehow, but no matter how Daniel stared he found nothing out of place or extraordinary. Nothing that he didn't recall seeing before.  
  
“The road splits ahead,” Alexander said after what felt like hours. “There's a sheltered copse over there where we can leave Humlan.”  
  
“Will she be all right in our absence?” Hazel wondered.  
  
“I’m sure of it, don’t worry.”  
  
Hazel slid down and Daniel caught her. They took their belongings from the saddlebags and packed them in Alexander's rucksack. Daniel removed the saddle and the bridle from Humlan somewhat uncertainly, with Alexander's reassurances that she'd be waiting for them even if they left her to graze untied.  
  
“How are you feeling?” Daniel asked Hazel. “Do you think you can walk the rest of the way?”  
  
“It’s fine. I’m not tired.”  
  
“Just tell me if you feel unwell, all right? I don’t mind carrying you if you start feeling weary.”  
  
“Let’s get going,” Alexander interrupted. “The days are short at this time of the year, and we want to be out of the woods before it gets dark.”  
  
Daniel and Hazel set out after him. They’d only been walking for perhaps ten minutes before they reached the crossroads, if it could be called thus. The proper road turned to the right in a downhill slope – the treeline thinned there, and Daniel could just make out a field far below. Two paths, hardly more than animal trails, split to the left and straight ahead. Alexander glanced over his shoulder at Daniel, nodded, and took the left turn. The other two followed suit.  
  
Hazel, though the shortest of them, seemed to have no trouble keeping up with Alexander, her attention only on following him, but Daniel kept tripping over roots and branches. He couldn’t focus on where he was going. His eyes darted from one direction to another, almost expecting for something to materialise from the shadows. There was a tingling feeling crawling up his spine that told him they weren’t alone.  
  
“I hear running water,” said Hazel in a quiet voice, and Daniel guessed she must have sensed what he did.  
  
“I hear it, too.”  
  
“The priest said the burial mounds are on the other side,” Alexander said. “There ought to be a way across.”  
  
It wasn’t long until the treeline thinned and they found themselves facing a river. It wasn’t wide - perhaps thirty feet at best, Daniel assumed - but the drop to the water was long. There was an old wooden bridge ahead. Alexander rested his hand its railing, brows drawn into a scowl. The wood creaked and gave as he rested his weight on the first board, and he backed away.  
  
“We'll take the longer way around,” he said, turning to the other two. “There should be another way across a mile or two upstream.”  
  
Daniel glanced up. The sky was overcast, threatening more rain, with heavy clouds rolling over them.  
  
“Are you sure the bridge can't take our weight? I'd rather not waste any more time than we have to.”  
  
“You're free to try your luck if you fancy taking a swim,” Alexander replied wryly. “Go ahead. I won't stop you.”  
  
And with that he turned at his heels and continued walking. Daniel sputtered something incoherent after him, colour rising to his face. Hazel flashed him a pitying look and gathered her hems, marching after their guide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the locations in this fic are real or based on real places. I lived in the town of Ed briefly some years ago. Pull up a map and locate the lakes Lilla Le and Stora Le in Sweden close to the Norwegian border, and you'll find it. It's one of the most beautiful places in the world if you ask me - the nature is amazing - and launched my very first ideas for this fic years ago. ^^ Highly recommended if you're an outdoorsy type and ever get a chance to go trekking there.
> 
> Sorry for the slightly late chapter, real life's been hectic for me the past month or so. Hope you're all having a good new year, despite everything, and see you in about two weeks' time. o7 Next chapter's gonna be long and exciting!


	7. Shadow-touched

_October 1839_  
 **Hazel**  
  
The river grew wider upstream, where a sturdy stone bridge had been built. It was old, much older than the wooden bridge they'd passed earlier, but the stone took their weight without giving, and it was with a certain sense of relief that Hazel crossed on the other side. The forest was darker here, the trees even taller with thick, low-hanging branches, and Hazel held her breath as she followed Alexander into the woods. There was hardly a trail here to follow, most of it concealed by undergrowth, and the firs let in very little light.  
  
It was very slow going, but a feeling in her gut told her they were going the right way. The air had turned heavy, expectant. Even as her eyes saw nothing she could sense it, the strange cold stillness that she'd learned to associate with the world beyond the veil.  
  
A tree had fallen on the path long ago, its trunk now covered with thick moss, and Alexander helped her climb over it.  
  
“They don't like us being here,” she told him, keeping her voice down on purpose.  
  
“I know,” he said. He held out his hand to Daniel, who was struggling to climb over the trunk after Hazel. “Let's move swiftly and remain quiet.”  
  
“Is it far?” Daniel whispered.  
  
“Not more than a mile. Stay close to me and you won't get lost.”  
  
The darkness of the woods felt all-encompassing and endless, but after an hour's trek in silence it began to wane. She knew instantly they'd found the place. The air pushed against her and then yielded, icy as winter, as though walking through a curtain of water. For a split-second the world seemed clearer with each detail thrown into sharp relief until her vision settled again. Daniel gasped and bumped into her.  
  
Alexander had stopped ahead where the treeline ended. He beckoned to them, and only for a moment Hazel hesitated. He alone stood out, as sharp and clear as her vision had been. The air around him stood still. A gust of wind made the branches tremble, but it never seemed to touch him.  
  
“We're here,” he said.  
  
Daniel and Hazel stepped out of the woods into a shadowy clearing. Leaf trees still bearing most of their autumn colours stood around the edges; oak, maple, rowan. Their leaves lay scattered all over. In the middle of the clearing stood large stones, some barely discernible from the grass.  
  
“A sacred grove, I think,” Daniel said quietly. He stepped closer gingerly, staring at the stones. He was very white in the face, and Hazel didn't ask why; the stones formed a circle.  
  
Alexander brushed past him and pointed. “The circle has lost its power. There are stones missing.”  
  
There were gaps in the otherwise perfect circle. Whoever had taken the stones had done so a long time ago, Hazel surmised, for there was no depression where they had once stood. She, too, got closer, and carefully placed her hand on one of the stones. It was cool against her touch, but that was all she felt. She sighed in relief.  
  
“He's right,” she said. “I can't feel anything.”  
  
Daniel was already moving. The scattered leaves lead across the clearing and towards a copse of trees. In their shadow was something large. Hazel followed him, and as her eyes adjusted she realised what it was. Grass-covered mounds, taller than she was. Daniel was smiling.  
  
“Alexander. I'd like our equipment now, please,” he called.  
  


* * *

  
Hazel barely noticed her wrist aching as she worked, her attention focused entirely on her drawings. She dipped the quill tip in the ink once more and bent over her journal, hair almost touching the still wet lines. She paused every now and then to take a careful look at the mounds, then continued, her strokes quick and precise.  
  
'What can only be described as five large barrows, each approximately 8-10 feet tall. Though humble in appearance, their formation and general shape appear too deliberate to be anything but man-made,' she wrote next to the drawing. She paused, quill hovering mid-air before continuing. 'The location suggests possible connection to sacrificial rites, or a place of worship. The barrows appear to be older than the grove itself. Were the trees planted on purpose to shelter the barrows or to honour dead ancestors? Or was it simply adopted to such use as the forest grew around it?'  
  
Daniel was pacing back and forth between and around the barrows, muttering to himself as he went. There were leaves and grass sticking to his trousers from the numerous times he'd plopped down to write.  
  
“They are definitely smaller than the ones located in Uppland. I don't know what the scholars were thinking. These are no natural formations, anyone with a pair of eyes should be able to see it,” he scoffed. “You've spoken to the locals, Alexander. What do they know about these barrows? How old are they?”  
  
Alexander was sitting on one of the stones. He didn't look up, but his expression turned thoughtful.  
  
“I don't think even they know how far back they date exactly. I suppose that's where you people come in.” He was quiet for a moment. “It's rumoured that the people buried here were of a high status in their day, but that's all the priest was willing to tell me. I doubt the church wanted people to continue visiting these sites. They've likely played a part in eradicating as much of the old knowledge as they could.”  
  
“As they've done all over the north,” Daniel said with a sigh. “A shame, that. This place was far beyond my expectations. I hope that a thorough excavation will reveal us more when the time comes.”  
  
And they lapsed back into silence once more.  
  
An hour turned into another, and Hazel turned the page as soon as her ink had dried enough. Alexander took out an oil lamp from his backpack, lit it and set it next to her in the grass as more clouds rolled in, dimming the already feeble daylight. Hazel massaged her wrist before turning her attention on the stone circle instead. She drew it in as much detail as she could, marking down exactly where the stones were missing, and when she was done it was much darker.  
  
Hazel blew into the ink one more time, then closed her journal. Her body felt as heavy as the air itself. Daniel was crouching down in front of the barrows, scribbling furiously in his notebook, until he, too, grabbed his things and got up.  
  
“Finished?” Alexander asked.  
  
“Just about,” Daniel answered. “It's getting too dark to continue. We'd best head back.”  
  
Alexander took their things and returned them in his bag. Daniel held out his hands to Hazel and pulled her to her feet. She didn't let go immediately. The air was shifting in front of her eyes and she blinked slowly once, twice before it settled.  
  
“What is it?” Daniel asked.  
  
“Getting tired. I feel like there's a weight pressing against my chest.”  
  
“You've been out for too long,” he said, face anxious. “We need to get you indoors at once. Did you take your medicine this morning?”  
  
She shook her head. “It's not that. There's something odd in this place. I feel… feel as if it's pressing down on me. I don't see anything or anyone, but I can tell we're not alone.”  
  
“I can feel it, too.”  
  
Alexander marched to them and held out the lantern to Daniel.  
  
“The spirits are often drawn to people like yourself, young lady. They can sense if you're sensitive to such things.”  
  
“Are they dangerous? Will they harm her?” asked Daniel.  
  
“I doubt it, but you're right; we do need to leave. Follow after me.”  
  
Daniel had his arm around Hazel's, the lantern held out in his other hand. The path out of the holt felt longer on the way back, but Hazel could tell the exhaustion in her limbs was gradually lifting the further they went. Had it not been for the lantern she wouldn't have seen three feet ahead of herself. She felt how Daniel was shaking, and they both sped up when they at last saw daylight ahead, feeble though it was.  
  
“The river,” she breathed, relieved.  
  
Daniel doused the lantern. “We should have an hour or two of daylight left if my feeling is correct. Best spare the oil.”  
  
He held her hand so tightly that it almost hurt and she squeezed right back, doing her best to keep up with him and Alexander as they retraced their steps along the river. She could feel the long journey in her legs, but the excitement bubbling inside her wasn't quelled by exhaustion nor fear.  
  
“We did it. We actually did it,” she repeated. A grin was tugging at her lips. “And that's just the first of three, Danny! I can't wait to find the next one.”  
  
“Careful, you shouldn't get out of breath.”  
  
“I can breathe just fine,” she said and rushed to continue, “come on, show a little emotion. You must be at least just as excited as I am.”  
  
“And that I am,” Daniel admitted and returned her smile, though it wavered as the sound of her laboured breathing. “We'll compare notes back at the inn, all right?”  
  
By the time they reached the old wooden bridge they were both out of breath, and it was getting dark fast. Hazel felt a stitch on her side and she stopped, bending over with hands on her knees.  
  
“Wait, wait,” Daniel called out. Alexander came to a halt and turned around.  
  
“Miss? Are you all right?”  
  
Hazel nodded, but couldn't quite manage words.  
  
Daniel was rubbing her back. “Let her catch her breath, will you?”  
  
“The light is waning fast. The crossing point isn't far now. You take the backpack and I'll carry her.“  
  
“I'm not taking her down an unnecessary detour. The pony's right on the other bank, if we'd just hurry across.”  
  
“I told you already, the bridge won't take our weight.“  
  
“How do you know that without trying? If we cross it separately it ought to be all right.”  
  
“That's not a theory I'm willing to test. Move along, we need to get going.”  
  
Daniel actually kicked the ground in frustration. When he spoke again he sounded angrier than Hazel recalled him being in a good long while.  
  
“You said yourself we have to get out of the forest before it gets dark,” he said, so loudly that it seemed to echo. “We might still make it in time if we get to the pony immediately.”  
  
Alexander's expression darkened. “You're being childish. I'm not risking our lives just to save some time.”  
  
“Fine, see for yourself! I'll go first and demonstrate.”  
  
“Danny, stop!”  
  
He was already marching towards the bridge, nose up in the air. Hazel shivered. The river raged louder than ever, and a horrible chill went up her spine as soon as Daniel placed his hand on the railing. The boards creaked and complained as he took a step, then another on the bridge, but nothing happened.  
  
“See?” he said triumphantly and glanced over his shoulder at them. He took another step, the bridge complaining with every movement. “Hurry up!”  
  
There was a shadow spreading across his smile, a shadow he didn't seem to see.  
  
Hazel dashed after him, her legs faltering underneath her, and Alexander caught her just as she fell. She made to shake him off and yelled, as loudly as her rasping voice allowed, “no, no, not me, stop him, stop him—“  
  
A shadow where her brother stood, darkening his form. All words died in her throat instantly as she saw it pulling him in, wrapping itself around him. Alexander blanched as he saw it, too.  
  
She saw it as though in slow motion, mere seconds before it happened; Daniel was almost precisely halfway across when the boards gave away with an ear-shattering screech; Alexander dashing towards him, shouting something, but too late. Daniel hadn't the time to cry out before his feet had slipped through the gap, the lantern slipping from his grasp and rolling into the river. For a heartbeat he hung half-suspended between the broken boards before they gave away entirely.  
  
Hazel knew she was screaming; she couldn't hear it, she couldn't hear anything, but her throat seared as though she were suffocating. Alexander tossed the backpack at her and sprinted along the river, after Daniel. The last Hazel saw of him through her tears was his figure diving straight into the river like a silver arrow.  
  


* * *

  
**Daniel  
  
** All air pushed out of his lungs as he fell in the water back first. Every cell in his body screamed; the water was so icy that it burned. His limbs were flailing in all directions. He inhaled reflexively, then coughed, inhaled again, coughed; water filled his mouth, his lungs. He struggled, feet kicking as hard as he could manage, but he felt himself sinking, carried by the river like a lifeless ragdoll.  
  
Little by little all went dark.  
  
So cold.  
  
A sharp spike of pain in his chest – he must have tried to breathe again – then nothing. The water numbed everything, sound, feeling, even pain, until he didn't feel cold any more.  
  
Somewhere at the edge of his consciousness he felt something grab onto him and start pulling. All sounds came back at once, cold air biting his face suddenly. He felt himself being lifted, then falling onto something hard, but the pain was duller than before, distant, as though it wasn't his at all.  
  
I've felt this somewhere before, he thought.  
  
Someone was speaking, shouting. Or perhaps it was the river or the rush of blood. His mouth was full, and no matter how he thought of breathing no air found his lungs, and his limbs felt both heavy and weightless at once. A pressure against his chest cut through the numbness momentarily, then again, and again, and again. Daniel retched, water pouring out of his mouth, until he went limp again.  
  
“Daniel. Daniel!”  
  
Yes. Yes, his name, that was his name. His lips wouldn't move to answer. Someone repeated his name again, louder. Were his eyes open? All he saw was white.  
  
Something warm touched his cheek. It couldn't quell the cold that had engulfed him.  
  
His name, words, voice, words. Someone, someone there, with him.  
  
A voice.  
  
Whose?  
  
He blinked, or tried to; he couldn't feel his eyelids obeying. A face swam into focus, so blindingly bright that he couldn't recognise it. Its mouth moved with words he should have understood. Something soft tickled his face, long hair.  
  
So this is death, he thought.  
  
The being cupped his face with its hands and bent over him until their foreheads were touching. A warm breath ghosting against his mouth, whispering frantically, words a blur, sometimes familiar, sometimes not. The air around him unsettled and changed like in a gust of wind. It seemed to pass right through him.   
  
“Look at me, Daniel.”  
  
Such piercing eyes, locking him place. He couldn't have looked away even if he'd wanted to.  
  
Hands, brushing away wet hair from his face.  
  
“What is mine let pass unto him,” murmured the voice, and then it pressed its mouth against Daniel's. Daniel felt something clutch at his throat momentarily, then unclench entirely. His lungs filled in a rush as it breathed life into him. Daniel inhaled, and the other pulled away.  
  
Feeling returned into his limbs in a rush, warmth breaking through the threshold at last. Daniel groaned. Every inch of him hurt. There was a feeling of pressure on his chest that worsened every time he breathed. His hands were shaking from the cold.  
  
“Daniel? Can you hear me?”  
  
He made to answer. He wasn't sure what he said, if anything; his voice cracked and failed almost instantly.  
  
“Just breathe. Don't try to talk yet.”  
  
A small voice in his head said that he should have recognised the speaker from somewhere. He felt himself being lifted into a sitting position, with someone's hand supporting his head. He blinked again once, twice. The face was slowly coming into focus.  
  
“A-Alex… ander?” he managed.  
  
“Shh. Don't talk.”  
  
Of course it was him. Those strange yellow eyes were unmistakeable. He was sopping wet, hair plastered to his face.  
  
Daniel stared at him.  
  
Every feature was familiar to him, yet he found himself looking at a stranger with Alexander's eyes and voice. He couldn't put his finger on it. Mist-pale, like something not of this realm, yet Daniel felt as if seeing him properly for the first time.  
  
Running footsteps were coming towards them, and someone screamed.  
  
“Danny! Danny!”  
  
Daniel flinched at the sound of panic in Hazel's voice. He couldn't even turn his head to look at her, his body heavy like lead. His eyes slipped closed again.  
  
“He's alive,” Alexander answered for him.  
  
There was the sound of rocks and pebbles crunching underneath soles. Daniel felt a much smaller, warmer hand grasping his. No one spoke for a while; he thought he heard Hazel crying.  
  
“He needs to see a doctor as soon as possible,” Alexander said quietly. “Come on, let's get back to the village.”  
  
Alexander lifted him in his arms as though he weighted nothing. Daniel felt himself slipping away and all went black once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *eyes emoji* See you in two weeks' time~


	8. Truths and half-truths

_October 1839_  
 **Daniel  
  
** When he came to it was dark. Rain was coming down in curtains against the roof and the window panes, the sound so loud that the ache in his head doubled. He couldn't recognise the room, but the way it was furnished told him it must have been at the inn.  
  
He couldn't move, but he found this didn't alarm him as much as it should have. His arms and legs felt completely boneless. He was much warmer than before, he noted, and without another thought he drifted back to sleep once more.  
  


* * *

  
He kept drifting between awake and asleep for the next days. Sometimes Hazel was there when he opened his eyes, sometimes she wasn't. A woman who he assumed was a doctor or a nurse came and went, and while Daniel didn't understand a word of what she said to him, he accepted the medicine she offered him without complaint.  
  
Lying still hurt. Turning around hurt. There wasn't a place in his body that didn't feel sore; his muscles ached just from existing, it seemed, and he was cold even with four quilts piled over him.  
  
He groaned when a warm hand took his, rousing him from his stupor.  
  
“You're burning up,” Hazel said.  
  
He forced his eyes open. She was sitting on his bedside in her Sunday dress, and to Daniel's relief she looked unscathed. He tried to smile, but the muscles in his face wouldn't obey.  
  
"What day is it?” he rasped. His voice sounded awful even to his own ears.  
  
“Saturday. You've been out of it for a few days.”  
  
“Figures.” Daniel coughed. “I feel awful.”  
  
“You're lucky it's just fever, not pneumonia.”  
  
“Not sure I'd use the word 'lucky' quite so generously. Are you all right? Have you been taking your medicine? Have you been able to sleep?”  
  
“I'm fine, Danny. I've not had any fits.”  
  
He sighed. “That's a relief. I'm thirsty. Is there anything to drink?”  
  
Hazel poured him a glass of water, which he downed in one. She refilled it instantly.   
  
After his third cup he set it on the table next to the bed, doing his best to relax against the pillows propped behind his back. The room was swimming in front of his eyes. He closed them, breathing in and out slowly until the feeling eased.  
  
“Do you remember anything?” she asked.  
  
Daniel didn't answer right away. His recollections were hazy at best, but what he did remember came to him clear as daylight.  
  
“Alexander saved me,” he said quietly. “Dragged me right out of the river. Not even a man half his age would be able to do that all by himself.”  
  
“He carried you all the way back to the village.”  
  
Daniel swallowed. There was something in his throat that wouldn't budge. When he spoke his voice shook audibly. “I think… I think I was dead, when he pulled me ashore. I couldn't breathe. My body was cold and still. Then he said, did something, and suddenly I felt something let go of me. And after, Alexander, he… He was Alexander, but not.”  
  
He opened his eyes and found Hazel looking right at him. She held his gaze for a long time, too long, and he knew that she understood exactly what he meant.  
  
“What is he? Alexander?” he whispered.  
  
“I don't know. You'll have to ask him that yourself.”  
  
“You've seen him for what he is all this time, haven't you?”  
  
“I was surprised that you didn't,” she shrugged. “Perhaps it's because of my condition. I see him as I see others behind the veil, yet he's not one of them. Not entirely.”  
  
“Why didn't anyone tell me?” Daniel said angrily, but got interrupted by coughs. When they finally subsided he felt more tired than before. Hazel took his cup and refilled it again and pushed it back in his hands.  
  
“You know why. We didn't want to upset you.”  
  
“I wouldn't have been—“  
  
“Oh, please. You've disliked him since we met.”  
  
Silence.  
  
Daniel drank his water, thoughts churning around in his head. He tried to think back on their first meeting in Gothenburg, but the details were escaping him like water from cupped palms. His common sense must have been asleep all this time, Daniel thought. He should have known something wasn't right; there was something unassuming about the baron, something that dulled one's senses as if he didn't want to be noticed. Daniel could now tell that it was deliberate. An enchantment, perhaps, or a shroud, that rendered his presence forgettable.  
  
There had been no sign of the charm in the Alexander that had rescued him, though. Daniel felt his hair stand on end as he recalled his face, inches from his. He'd believed him one of the fair ones.  
  
“Where is he now?” Daniel finally asked, breaking the silence.  
  
“Out in the woods with Wilhelm, I think.”  
  
I have to thank him. That's the second time he's saved my life in the past two weeks, Daniel realised. His insides turned upside-down at the thought. How did you face someone after that? Whatever Alexander was, he meant them no harm. Even Daniel could see that now.  
  
Hazel was twisting a lock of hair around her finger, eyes unfocused. Daniel watched her, and the longer he did the worse he felt. He was a terrible brother. She always thought him responsible and level-headed, yet lately he'd been anything but. He was the one who was supposed to be taking care of her, instead of causing her needless worry.  
  
“You seem tired. Perhaps you ought to go and rest,” Daniel said.  
  
“No. I'm staying until Alexander has returned.”  
  
“I promise I won't go anywhere. I'll be more careful from now on.”  
  
“It's not just that,” Hazel said and shook her head almost absent-mindedly. Her face was contorted as she thought. “I saw it with you again, you know. That shadow. It was on the bridge with you, just like when were little, when father...” Her voice broke. “It's been there now twice when you've been close to death. I don't understand it. I wish I knew what it means.”  
  
“I'm sure it's nothing,” Daniel said, trying his best to sound nonchalant despite the ice cube that had suddenly slipped into his guts. “Alexander said there were spirits in the area. Perhaps there were some by the bridge as well – I doubt I'm the only one who's ever fallen in.”  
  
“Maybe,” she replied, but her tone was sceptical.  
  
There was a knock on the door and they both jumped. Hazel cleared her throat and answered in Swedish.  
  
The door opened and the nurse came in with a supply box in her hands. She and Hazel exchanged words that Daniel didn't understand. The nurse gestured at him and Hazel nodded.  
  
“I'll be back later,” Hazel told him. “Alexander's returned. Get some rest if you can.”  
  
“You too.”  
  


* * *

  
**Alexander**  
  
They rode slowly across the frost-bitten fields that opened all around them, the forest looming far ahead. Thin mist hung above the field. The wind had died two days ago and showed no sign of resurrecting.  
  
Behind him rode Hazel, humming quietly to herself. Daniel had taken the rear of his own volition, and Alexander didn't question why. They hadn't exchanged a word in the two weeks he'd spent bedridden. Alexander stole a quick glance at him when he wasn't looking. In his opinion he still looked sickly, the shadows beneath his eyes deeper than ever.  
  
Hazel's voice rose into a faint song. It took him a second to realise she was singing one of the rhymes he'd taught her weeks earlier.  
  
“Your Swedish is improving,” he told her when she was finished. “I'm impressed that you remembered the whole song.”  
  
Her heels dug into Humlan's sides for a second, speeding her up until she was riding next to Alexander. “You are too kind. I've had much idle time to practice recently.”  
  
“Have you studied any languages before? German, perhaps? French?”  
  
She laughed dryly. “Try Danny instead. Our parents saw no reason to waste their pennies educating a daughter. I've learned to read and write, certainly, but my schooling was more aimed at proper lady-like interests that would make it easier to find me a husband.”  
  
“Such as?”  
  
“Crochet.” She said it like a curse, and Alexander laughed.  
  
“Not quite your heart's desire, judging by your tone.”  
  
“What a daring thing for a gentleman to say.”  
  
“Perhaps, but you and I are not ordinary people. I daresay we can speak our minds more freely, scandalous though it might be.”  
  
“And what other scandalous things have you in your mind, sir?”  
  
“That you saw coming on this journey as a means to escape your previous life. You wanted to be free.”  
  
Hazel smirked. “You accuse me of such dreadful things.”  
  
“Am I not right?”  
  
“It is as you say. Had I not fallen ill the rest of my life would have been decided for me. I want to do something of my own choosing, just once, just like Danny. Before it's too late.”  
  
Her voice had grown stronger over the past two months, and now that Alexander looked at her he could see how much straighter she sat, her grip on the reins firm. Colour had returned on her pale complexion. She looked healthier than her brother, certainly. With a silvery little laugh she nudged at Humlan's sides with her heels and the pony broke into a brisk trot.  
  
“Hazel!” Daniel called after her, alarmed. He made to encourage Daisy into a trot, but Alexander held up his hand.  
  
“She won't go far. Let her be on her own for a moment.”  
  
Daniel's face was anxious when he came to ride by his side, and Alexander groaned inwardly. He had not wanted to be left alone with him.  
  
“Are you sure it's safe?” Daniel asked.  
  
“There are no other creatures around, and I doubt the pony would throw her off.”  
  
The Englishman bit his lip as he stared after her. To Alexander's eyes she remained visible, a bright, rippling speck of life in the barren landscape, but he knew Daniel had lost sight of her as soon as the mist swallowed her.  
  
“All birds prefer to fly free. You can't shelter her forever.”  
  
“But she's ill! What if she falls off? What if she has an attack?”  
  
“You're awfully concerned for someone who was ready to risk her life at the bridge just two weeks ago.”  
  
The words had left his mouth before he could stop himself. He saw Daniel's cheeks colour with shame, but he said nothing in response.  
  
Shit, Alexander cursed himself. He had spent too many decades cooped up in Brennenburg without proper company, that much had become blatantly obvious in the past weeks. What good were his precautions, his carefully honed manners, if he forgot them as soon as Daniel opened his mouth?  
  
He'd brought this upon himself, Alexander could see that. Should've let him drown. Should've let him and Hazel wander off from Gothenburg alone and get lost in the woods. The boy had a way of working himself underneath his skin with a couple of sharp words, and every glare he threw Alexander's way just lodged his presence deeper. Like a splinter under a fingernail.  
  
They rode in silence. Hazel was halfway across the field now and Humlan showed no sign of slowing down. Daniel kept his eyes on the ground, uncharacteristically quiet. He looked almost as pallid as if he'd only just been when dragged out of the river, with dry, chapped lips. His cheeks looked more hollowed, as though he'd lost several pounds over the past weeks.  
  
“I'm sorry,” Alexander finally said. “What I said was uncalled for. I'm not sure what overcame me.”  
  
Daniel shrugged. “Don't apologise. It is as you say, tactless though you are.”  
  
“Tactless? Who are _you_ calling tactless?”  
  
“The trees and the road, obviously. Who else would I mean but you, sir?”  
  
“I told you to stop with the 'sir' already.”  
  
“I didn't mean it as a compliment,” Daniel said scathingly.  
  
“I can tell, thank you very much.”  
  
“Let's just stop. This isn't going anywhere.” He paused, then said, “and however much I hate to say it, I've been reckless and irresponsible. Hardly the sort of behaviour befitting my position as Hazel's guardian and older brother.”  
  
Well, that's at least something we can agree on, Alexander thought, but decided it best not to voice his thoughts this time.  
  
“There's no point in beating yourself up over it,” he said instead. No point in riling him up any more than was necessary. “At least you're alive. Be thankful for that.”  
  
To his surprise Daniel's face coloured again, with even the tips of his ears going red.  
  
“What?” Alexander asked.  
  
Daniel's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. He didn't seem to find the words.  
  
“About that. I wanted to thank you properly. You… you saved my life, didn't you?” he stammered without looking at Alexander. He swallowed. “I, I couldn't breathe, then I suddenly came to and you were there and…“  
  
“Ah.” Shit, _shit_. “So you remember.”  
  
“Barely. I must've lost my consciousness again after that. The next thing I remember is waking up at the inn.”  
  
“I'm surprised you remember anything at all. You were out cold. Swallowed half the river by the looks of it.”  
  
“Out cold.”  
  
“Yes. Means you were unconscious.”  
  
Daniel made a face. Far ahead on the other side of the field Hazel had turned Humlan around and begun trotting towards them. Alexander nudged Wilhelm's sides and sped up.  
  
“Hey! Wait up!”  
  
“Didn't you want to hurry up to Hazel?”  
  
“I'm not done talking to you yet.”  
  
“Of course you're not,” Alexander muttered darkly.  
  
Daniel either didn't hear him or just didn't care; he caught up soon enough and forced Daisy right in front of Wilhelm, barring their passage. The white gelding tossed his head in displeasure and sidestepped out of the way so suddenly that Alexander nearly lost his balance.  
  
“What the hell is your problem?” Alexander asked irritably.  
  
“You did something to me, didn't you? After you dragged me out the river. Unconscious, my arse. I was dead!”  
  
“Don't be thick. You wouldn't be sitting there had you died, and in my experience dead men aren't as much of a pain as you are.”  
  
“I know I was dead when you found me,” Daniel cut across him. “I heard things around me, but couldn't react. Everything had gone white, like I was slipping away. And then I heard your voice and, I don't know, something pulled me back and I remembered how to breathe all of a sudden—“  
  
“It's called resuscitation, you idiot. It's you English who came up with it. Don't you read the papers?”  
  
“You're lying. Just like the fairy ring, just like with the trolls – you did something. I don't know if it's magic or whatever, but you saved me, all those times.”  
  
“You sound weirdly offended by it,” Alexander answered. He encouraged Wilhelm into a walk and navigated around Daniel and Daisy, deliberately waving at Hazel who was fast approaching them.  
  
Daniel shouted after him, tone indignant. “You didn't answer me!”  
  
To Alexander's relief Hazel reached them just then, her eyes ablaze with excitement, and he hitched a smile on his face, firmly ignoring the weight that had gathered in his chest. He made sure to ride with her the rest of the way, and though Daniel continued glaring at him he did what Alexander had hoped for and didn't try to bring up the subject again within his sister's earshot.  
  
He couldn't keep from stealing glances at Daniel now and then, and the feeling of unease within him deepened each time. No, it hadn't been just spirits or the river. The air around Daniel twisted and darkened whenever he watched him from the corner of his eye. It wasn't the same solid gray shroud that floated around Hazel like a cloak; it clung to him heavily, unchanging, still, cold.  
  
Alexander wrestled his eyes off him, though reluctantly. Whatever the boy carried with him, the baron had never seen its like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dynamic between Alexander and Hazel gives me life. I've mentioned this before, but I really like exploring dynamics between characters who never met in canon. :P
> 
> Anyway, see you guys in two weeks' time!


	9. In-between

_October 1839_  
 **Daniel  
  
** A cold, cloudless night fell, and with it rose the mist, so pale and thin that it made the woodlands appear almost ghostly. Daniel tossed another log in the fire, tending it until the flames engulfed it merrily. Next to him Hazel yawned.  
  
They ate their gruel without talking. Their horses were grazing freely on the other side of the clearing they'd chosen as their current campsite, hooves crunching in the frost-covered grass the only sound that carried over the crackling of the fire. Alexander's form was barely visible as he sat in the copse of fir trees, back towards the camp. He hadn't exchanged a word with Daniel after the field, and Daniel could tell he was avoiding him. He wondered if Hazel had noticed; if she had, she was doing a good job of hiding it.  
  
Daniel could hardly keep his eyes off the sky. It was a dark new moon's night, and though it was unlikely in these latitudes, he found himself wishing for a glimpse of the northern lights.  
  
Hazel yawned again.  
  
“Off to bed with you,” Daniel told her. She put down her now empty bowl.  
  
“I just might. Don't stay up too late.”  
  
“Wouldn't dream of it. Just remember to take your medicine.”  
  
“Yes, yes. Good night.”  
  
Daniel took a sip from his mug and scowled. His water had already gone cold.  
  
His head shot up as he heard rustling and one of the horses nickered softly. Alexander was walking towards the paddock. He paused to pat Wilhelm's neck, muttered something to the horse, and picked up the bow and the quiver. He slung the quiver over his shoulder.  
  
“Going somewhere?” Daniel asked.  
  
Alexander glanced at him, then looked away again.  
  
“Hunting.”  
  
Before Daniel could even open his mouth he had already headed back towards the copse and vanished into the shadows. Daniel stared after him. He swallowed, set his bowl next to Hazel's and dropped another two logs in the fire before getting up. He was surprised to notice that he was quite steady on his feet as he took a step, then another after Alexander.  
  
He needed to know.  
  
With one more glance at Hazel's tent he hurried towards the spot where the guide had vanished, and leapt over the stream separating their camp from the forest.  
  
The woods were pitch-black. It made his skin crawl. Something was humming quietly, the sound coming from every direction at once as though the trees themselves were singing. It reverberated in the air and went underneath his skin, just like the music of the fae had. There was something comforting in it, like a once-forgotten nursery rhyme. I'm mad, I've learned nothing, nothing at all, Daniel thought, but did not stop.  
  
His mind was racing. He thought of trolls, spirits and fae, but nothing tried to stop him, nothing reached out for him in the dark. He tripped over roots and brambles, fumbling forwards blindly, with only his gut feeling as a guide. The mist was thickening, so pale that it almost seemed to emanate a light of its own, and at last he saw a white figure ahead. He held his breath reflexively.  
  
Alexander moved slowly, quietly, his every movement nothing but a whisper in the sleeping forest. As Daniel got closer he realised he wasn't humming – he was singing, so quietly that it would have vanished under birdsong had there been any. It made the air around him quiver, then still again, and Daniel saw them clearly for a split-second.  
  
Figures in the mist, spirits. Then he blinked and the vision was gone.  
  
“Alexander,” he called, voice cracking.  
  
The man stopped in his tracks.  
  
“Turn back,” he answered without looking at Daniel.  
  
“I want to talk to you.”  
  
“Go back to the camp and leave me alone.”  
  
He sped up. After a while Daniel did too. He moved so swiftly now that Daniel was sweating just from trying to keep up with him.  
  
Slowly, the forest thinned in a downward slope until he found himself on the edge of a marsh. White, tufted flowers stuck out from the frosty moss where Alexander's footprints had left their mark, only just visible. Daniel hesitated, then tried the ground with his foot uncertainly. It gave ever so slightly beneath his sole. He squeezed his eyes shut, exhaled slowly through his nose to calm his racing heart, and set on, careful to follow Alexander's footprints.  
  
He daren't move quickly. The path, if it could be called that, was slippery, and the saplings and the bushes that grew there were so small and far apart that they provided him nothing to hold on to. The fog was thickening. Every now and then he thought he saw a faint flicker of light at the distance, but it was gone as soon as he tried to look at it. He couldn't see Alexander any more, and Daniel wondered if he'd even come this way. His footprints vanished at times, then continued again ten, twenty feet ahead.  
  
The undergrowth rustled and a hare darted past Daniel, startling him. He sidestepped, foot sinking ankle-deep into the marsh water.  
  
“Bloody hell,” he swore loudly. His shoe left a squelching sound as he pulled it free.  
  
From a nearby bush a pheasant took flight, no doubt startled by his voice. It didn't get far; an arrow came whizzing through the air and caught it underneath its wing.  
  
Alexander was standing perhaps fifty feet away. He put down his bow, a sullen expression crossing his face as he turned to look at Daniel.  
  
“You shouldn't have come,” he said.  
  
“I wanted to talk to you in private, while Hazel's asleep.”  
  
Alexander sighed. He headed straight after the pheasant, and though the ground gave lightly beneath his weight he didn't sink as Daniel had.  
  
“You're avoiding me again,” Daniel called after him.  
  
“I'm not.”  
  
“Yes, you are. You've avoided talking to me all day.”  
  
“I didn't say we can't talk. I'd rather just not do it here.”  
  
“I don't care. There are some questions I want answered.”  
  
Alexander pulled the arrow free and picked up the dead pheasant. He stowed the arrow back in the quiver and strode back to the path where Daniel stood waiting.  
  
“Well?” Daniel asked.  
  
Alexander held up a finger to his lips. “Quiet.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Shut up for once and follow me.”  
  
To Daniel's surprise he didn't turn back towards the forest, but continued following the trail through the marshlands. Daniel stared incredulously at his back, then hastened after him.  
  
“Where are we going?”  
  
“Keep it down,” Alexander hissed. “We're not alone in here.”  
  
“We're not?”  
  
As soon as the words left him Daniel saw another flicker of light from the corner of his eye and he came to a halt. The light dimmed and died, then another sparked into life, then another, each vanishing almost as soon as they'd appeared. Had it not been winter he might have thought them fireflies. A shiver ran down his spine as he recognised them.  
  
Alexander grabbed him by the wrist, startling him. “Don't stop.”  
  
“Are those—“  
  
“Ask your questions later.”  
  
He practically dragged Daniel after him, and Daniel didn't protest or yank his hand free. Even he could now feel how heavy the air was.  
  
Soon something materialised from the fog. An island, Daniel though when he saw it. He couldn't think of a better word for it. It rose from the marsh like an island, anyway, covered in tall grasses, barren bushes, and boulders taller than a man. Daniel felt something loosening in his chest as soon as he stepped on it.  
  
“That's a little better,” Alexander muttered, apparently to himself, and let go of Daniel.  
  
He sat down between two of the boulders and Daniel copied him. They were virtually invisible there; he could only just see the marsh from the gap between the saplings and yellowed reeds.  
  
“Those lights,” Daniel said quietly. “Weren't they the same creatures that lured Hazel out of the camp?”  
  
Alexander nodded. “The very same. There are no secure paths here and crossing the marsh is dangerous. Many lose their lives here.”  
  
“But are we safe now?”  
  
“They're bound to the place where they died and as such can't leave. They won't bother us.”  
  
“Oh. Good.”  
  
The silence that fell between them was heavy. Alexander drew an arrow from the quiver and placed it against the bowstring, readying the bow to fire. His eyes were scanning the marshes, perhaps for more pheasants to catch, but after a few minutes he relaxed his stance and lowered the bow again.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“I said I came to hunt. The next town is a two-day ride from here. We'll need food along the way.”  
  
Daniel kicked a tuft of grass with his shoe. “Okay. Can we talk while you're doing that?”  
  
“And what are you going to do once you have your answers? Run away screaming into the night? Alert the villagers and tell them to bring torches and pitchforks?”  
  
“As if I'd do something like that.”  
  
Alexander laughed wryly. “You're a bad liar. You can't even look me in the eye now.”  
  
Daniel didn't answer. Even he could hear the hurt in the man's voice. He took a deep breath and, despite his trepidation, turned to look at him. It took an effort not to recoil and look away; even in this light his eyes were a striking amber, so unnaturally bright that they appeared to be glowing. His features were sharp, with thin, furrowed brows and distinct cheekbones, his mouth drawn into a forbidding line. His hair was long, white and fine, much like the fair ones' had been, and despite the lines on his face there was something ageless about him that went beyond looks.  
  
Daniel knew he'd looked more than his fill at Alexander during their time on the road, must have seen and noticed these very same things about him before, yet each of them seemed alien to him as though meeting him for the first time.  
  
“Who are you? Are you really the baron of Brennenburg?”  
  
“I'm the same Alexander as I've always been. The name and the title I gave you are genuine. I was born and raised in Prussia, and I've inherited both Brennenburg castle and the title of baron from my parents.” He flashed Daniel a lopsided smile that died almost instantly. “But that's not really what you want to know, is it?”  
  
Daniel swallowed. His mouth felt dry all of a sudden.  
  
“What are you?”  
  
There was a long silence.  
  
“I doubt there is even a proper word for it,” Alexander eventually said, shrugging. “Half-lives, some call us.”  
  
“That… that makes it sound like you're not alive.”  
  
“Oh, I'm very much alive, I can assure you as much, at least by human reckoning. I breathe, my heart beats, and my blood is red like that of a mortal man.”  
  
He held out his hand to Daniel, who, after a long pause, took it. His hand was cold, but he could feel it; the slow, steady beating of a heart. Without knowing why Daniel squeezed his hand, and Alexander quirked an eyebrow quizzically, which made Daniel let go of him.  
  
“So what does it mean?” he hastened to ask. “You do not belong behind the veil. I can see you, talk to you, as I could to a normal person.”  
  
“Oh, but you can't. Didn't used to, at least, not until the river.”  
  
“I _was_ able to see you before.”  
  
“Not for what I am. You saw what most people see when they encounter one of my kind – a forgettable guise, nothing more.” He sighed. “Those like myself belong not in the world of the living, nor do we belong behind the veil, either. We are, quite literally, neither here nor there.”  
  
“So the only people who can see your kind—?”  
  
“Are those who are close to death, yes,” Alexander finished for him. He held up his hand. “Shh. I heard something.”  
  
Daniel tensed, half-expecting for something to rise from the bog. A second later he heard the flapping of wings and Alexander stood up, bowstring already pulled. He didn't even see him let go of it before the arrow was flying through the air. With a soft screech it found its mark, and something thudded to the ground. A flock of birds took off from the nearby shrubbery, startled.  
  
Alexander left their hiding spot. When he returned he was carrying another dead pheasant, the arrow sticking out under its wing.  
  
“Should've been more careful,” Alexander grumbled. “So much for catching any more tonight. Let's go back before the young lady notices we're gone.” He pulled the arrow free and chucked it back in the quiver. He tossed the other pheasant to Daniel, who only just caught it. “Don't drop it, or there won't be supper tomorrow.”  
  
“Sure. Whatever.”  
  
“And keep quiet. No talking on the marshes.”  
  
“But I'm not done,” Daniel started. In vain, for Alexander was already walking away. Daniel groaned and hurried after him, pheasant and all.  
  
They didn't speak any more on the way back. Alexander had taken the lead, and while he never let Daniel fall behind, he seemed adamant enough to keep some distance between them. Daniel had a sneaking suspicion that he didn't want to be questioned any further.  
  
The longer Daniel watched him the less scared he was. It didn't make any sense. He ought to have been scared out of his wits, as he always had been with these things. The image of the baron made his eyes hurt, and where he walked, walked another him, a sharper, clearer, brighter him, made of air and silence and something so distinctly _other_ that it was overpowering. The two images were superimposed on one another, like body and spirit separated. Then Daniel blinked and the two were one, and try as he might he could only see them merged, as if it had always been so.  
  
Perhaps it had, Daniel admitted, and at last understood what Hazel had meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm, answers. Some answers, at the very least. Alexander likes his secrets, no matter the universe. ;)
> 
> My computer crashed while I was typing these notes and I can't remember what I'd written anymore, so I guess we'll keep this short lol. See you guys in two weeks~


	10. On the run

_October 1839  
_ **Hazel  
  
** She opened the flap of her tent and inhaled her lungs full of cool, crisp autumn air. It felt invigorating. The last week of October was dawning as cold as ever after a cloudless night, but she barely felt it. She was brimming with energy, her cheeks warm and rosy. It was very early still, and in the next tent Daniel was snoring loudly. Hazel pulled on her boots and hurried to the paddock to greet Humlan.  
  
The pony whinnied softly at the sight of her and Hazel held out her palm to let her sniff it. Her lips tickled Hazel's fingers as she sought for a snack and she tossed her gray head upon finding none. It was easy to read the disapproval in the pony's eyes.  
  
“Sorry, girl,” Hazel told her. “I've no more snacks for you before we reach the next town.”  
  
Humlan huffed in response, her ears moving as she listened. Hazel picked up a brush from the saddlebag where Alexander carried Wilhelm's things, and started brushing the pony. There was dust and dried off mud from yesterday's ride stuck in her hocks and wilted grass roots clung to her tail.  
  
“You've been rolling about in the paddock, haven't you?” Hazel asked as she carefully sorted through the tangles. “And here I thought you'd be scared this far in the wilderness. Letting your big friends keep watch while you enjoy yourself, huh?”  
  
She brushed Humlan's hindquarters and flanks until her coat was sleek and gleaming again. Hazel smiled as she felt the mare poking her shoulder and sniffing her hair while she worked, the motion almost ticklish. When Hazel tossed the brush back in the saddlebag Humlan looked like a new pony.  
  
Hazel pet her neck gently while the pony continued grazing. “You're a good girl, you know that?” Humlan huffed. “Yes, I figured you might agree.”  
  
She leaned against the pony, eyes closed. She had never had the chance to ride or be near horses until their journey to Sweden. At first she had felt uncertain around them, especially in the saddle – Daisy was so tall that Hazel could barely reach to pet her withers – and sitting side-saddle made her feel like she was about to fall off at any second. Humlan was better suited for her height and experience level. If she stood on her toes, Hazel could see over her withers, and she was fleet-footed for her size yet steady even in the most uneven terrain. For a pony her legs were long, her gait graceful, and even in canter she moved so steadily that Hazel never lost her balance.  
  
Hazel felt an inexplicable sense of peace whenever Humlan turned to look at her with her intelligent brown eyes, and Hazel realised it was the first time she'd had a proper friend.  
  
Hazel knelt down and pulled off yellowed grass for Humlan to eat. “We are friends, aren't we, little lady?” She pet her muzzle while she ate. “I wish you could talk. What stories you'd have for me. But I like that you're a good listener.”  
  
Behind them Wilhelm raised his head and neighed. Hazel didn't need to look up to know Alexander was approaching, despite his footfalls leaving no sound.  
  
“You're up unusually early,” he commented. “The sun isn't even up yet.”  
  
“That's not saying much this far in the north.” Hazel held up another tuft of grass to Humlan, who yanked it out of her hand at once.  
  
Alexander hopped over the fence and into the paddock. Wilhelm followed his every move while he rummaged in the saddlebag for combs and brushes; Alexander held out each of them to the horse and let him inspect them before starting to work on his coat.  
  
“Let me work, you scoundrel,” Alexander told him when Wilhelm made to grab his ponytail. “A right mess you've made of yourself, too.”  
  
Hazel got up, smiling. Wilhelm was even taller than Daisy, a muscular hot-blooded horse with strong, long legs and a well-chiseled head. He sniffed her as she got closer and allowed her to pet his forehead.  
  
“Don't turn your back to him. You never know what pranks he'll get in his mind next,” Alexander warned her.  
  
“What do you mean? He's as sweet as they come.”  
  
“Or pretends to be.” Alexander sighed as Wilhelm leaned his large head towards him and tried to grab the comb sticking out of his pocket. He gently smacked him away. “He's a thief. He'll grab anything that isn't nailed down and run away with it.”  
  
“Don't listen to him,” Hazel said, stroking the gelding's neck. “You're a very good boy, no matter what he claims. What breed is he?”  
  
“Thoroughbred.”  
  
“Really? Isn't white a very rare colour for Thoroughbreds?”  
  
“He's gray, actually. His coat has just lightened with age, it's typical for the colour.”  
  
“How old is he?”  
  
“Ten in January, and thank God for that. You should have seen him when he was still a colt. Most temperamental little nuisance I've ever trained.” Wilhelm scoffed and tossed his head as though understanding the words. “Yes, you were. Threw me off your back more often than not.”  
  
“You two seem to work well as a pair now, though.”  
  
“I know his tricks and he knows mine. That way neither of us can take the other by surprise.”  
  
Hazel laughed.  
  
“You should go and rest. Breathing in the dust isn't good for you.”  
  
“I just brushed Humlan and it didn't make me cough once. I'm fine.”  
  
She made no effort to leave, which Alexander noticed after some minutes. He sounded amused when he said, “would you like to help?”  
  
“May I?”  
  
Alexander handed her another brush and pointed. “You take the other side. And be careful with his hindquarters, he complains if you press too hard.”  
  
Little by little they worked the dirt off Wilhelm's coat, and half an hour later the horse was a dazzling white in the morning sun. Alexander kept chastising him whenever he kept tugging at his clothes and hair, but Hazel could hear the fondness behind his sharp tongue. They left the horses to their grazing and returned to the camp together. Daniel was still sleeping in his tent.  
  
“I'll get started on breakfast. Sit down,” Alexander told her.  
  
“I can help with the food.”  
  
“You've helped enough already. Just sit and rest.”  
  
Alexander got a fire going, then turned his attention on the two pheasants lying next to the firepit. He started plucking them with practised ease and Hazel watched on curiously, despite having seen him do this many times already.  
  
“They look fresh,” she commented. “You were hunting last night, weren't you?”  
  
Alexander nodded.  
  
“I thought I felt something strange in the air. So that's what it was.”  
  
“You were supposed to be sleeping, young lady.”  
  
Hazel ignored the remark. “Whatever's watching us didn't like you hunting on their lands.”  
  
“Nothing in these woods likes my being here. This is claimed territory, and I am a trespasser.”  
  
“We all are.”  
  
Alexander unsheathed the knife on his belt and sliced the pheasants' bellies open. Hazel took in the shadows under his eyes, then glanced towards Daniel's tent. She had woken up just once during the night to the sound of Daniel going in his tent. Soon thereafter she had heard Alexander's quiet muttering as he set up the wards again, which had calmed the woods around their camp and lulled her back to sleep.  
  
It was only an hour later that her brother finally crawled out of his tent, hair unkempt and eyes unfocused. He and Alexander barely acknowledged one another. Hazel observed them curiously over the rim of her mug.  
  
Something had happened, she was sure of it. Alexander seemed to be avoiding his eye, whereas Daniel was staring at him more than was strictly polite, as though expecting him to grow a pair of wings and fly off, then hastily looking away as soon as the baron turned around.  
  
Danny must have followed him last night, Hazel deduced. He wasn't one to back down easily when he wanted something. She kept her expression neutral when he passed her a spoon and a bowl of soup.  
  
“Have you taken your medicine today?” he asked as they ate. “The vial you opened two weeks ago is not even half-empty yet.”  
  
“I've not needed any recently,” she answered truthfully. “I don't seem to get my fits any more.”  
  
“Fresh air works wonders,” Alexander said and sat down with a bowl of his own.  
  
“Are you sure it's not your doing?”  
  
“I'm not a healer, miss.”  
  
“The timing seems awfully convenient. I noticed a shift in my wellbeing after we left Gothenburg.”  
  
“Hmm,” was all the answer she got, Alexander's face unreadable. Daniel said nothing, but Hazel didn't miss the way his eyes narrowed as he looked from Alexander to Hazel and back.  
  


* * *

  
**Daniel  
  
** He rode behind the other two the whole day, only half-listening to their banter. It was unusual for Hazel to be so full of energy. They stopped once to enjoy a brief lunch, after which she was more than ready to get back in the saddle. Daniel thought he'd never heard her talk so much, at least to anyone else but him. The thought made him feel strangely lonely.  
  
Much as he worried he knew she wasn't lying; it was obvious that something in her condition had changed. As though she were getting better.  
  
Daniel shook himself mentally. No, it was not possible. Doctor Tate had said as much. It was terminal. Nothing to be done. He'd only hurt them both by clinging to hope where there was none.  
  
“You jest,” Hazel was saying. “She's still a filly?”  
  
“According to her previous owner, yes, and based on her coat he wasn't lying. She's perhaps three years old, four at most,” Alexander replied.  
  
“But she's so calm! They must have trained her early. Do you think her coat will lighten with age like Wilhelm's?”  
  
“Very likely.”  
  
Hazel pet Humlan's neck. “She's so mellow-tempered I thought for sure she was much older. How about Daisy, then, how old is she?” Hazel said with a glance in Daniel's direction.  
  
“I believe she's 12 or 13 years old, judging by her teeth. She's a Hanoverian, as steady as they come.”  
  
Daisy's ears moved back and forth as she listened, and Daniel scratched her neck absent-mindedly. Today Alexander acted as though Daniel didn't exist, but he seemed to have no problem talking (and occasionally, much to Daniel's shock, even smiling) to Hazel. There was still a small and persistent voice in Daniel's head that said their parents would have a fit should they see her consorting with an unmarried man so openly, in such a scandalous get-up, no less, but he waved it away. The baron was so much her senior that should his interest in her be anything besides the friendly sort, well, Daniel would personally see to it that he went back to Prussia in a coffin.  
  
And whatever his upbringing had told him about proper dress, he was learning not to care. There were more pressing matters in his world than ladies in trousers.  
  
He saw Alexander glance at him from the corner of his eye, then hastily look away. Daniel felt a twinge of annoyance. He was more than used to his betters treating him like air, so he didn't quite understand why Alexander's behaviour bothered him so. Daniel pretended to be interested in the trees and stared very pointedly elsewhere, which went unnoticed by the others.  
  
Yet, Daniel admitted begrudgingly, his eye was drawn back to the baron time and again. Here in daylight he looked both ordinary and not. Daniel hated how light danced in his hair and how it gave his profile a carved quality, like something born from an artist's chisel. He hated it so much that it brought a lump in his throat and twisted something in his gut every time he threw glances Alexander's way, only to have them all ignored.  
  


* * *

  
Hazel's improved condition allowed them to encourage their horses into a steady canter, their hooves swallowing the same amount of miles in a couple of hours that they normally would in a full day of travel. The hard, frozen ground proved an advantage underneath the horses' hooves, and they didn't have to stop more than twice to let them drink and breathe. They kept this pace for two more days, and Daniel suspected it tired him more than it did Hazel.  
  
Their path avoided the marshlands as much as possible, but Daniel felt something at the corners of his mind whenever the forest trails turned into open fields. The forest was dark, but it offered some small measure of cover. Here, in the winter-barren fields, he felt as though he had a mark on his back. The other two must have felt it, too – they both sat stiffly in their saddles, staring straight ahead. Daniel nudged Daisy with his heels lightly and rode next to Alexander.  
  
“We're being watched,” he said.  
  
“Always,” Alexander answered.  
  
Daniel eyed the animal prints in the hardened mud. “Wolves,” he muttered.  
  
“I wish. Wolves are the least of our worries.”  
  
“I don't like being out in the open like this. It'll start getting dark soon.”  
  
Alexander nodded. He loosened Wilhelm's reins slightly and took a firm hold of his mane with one hand. The gelding's stance grew more alert immediately. “We'd best make tracks, then. We're not far from the next safe location.”  
  
“How far is it?”  
  
“Some two to two and a half miles.” Alexander turned to Hazel. “Do you know how to gallop?”  
  
“Yes, but I'm not sure Humlan does.”  
  
“You needn't worry about her. Gather your reins. Both of you, after me.”  
  
They encouraged their horses into a brisk trot, then canter. When Alexander seemed satisfied that neither of them was going to fall off, he crouched down in his saddle and rubbed Wilhelm's neck in one fluid motion, his lips moving silently as he whispered something to the gelding. The effect was instantaneous. Wilhelm took off like a cannon ball, with Daisy and Humlan following him a second later without Daniel or Hazel needing to urge their steeds. Daniel felt the smallest tug in the air and Daisy's ears turned forwards eagerly.  
  
He's doing something to reach out to the horses, Daniel realised, just like he does with Wilhelm.  
  
Daniel copied Alexander and hunched lower towards Daisy's neck, digging his fingers into her mane even as it beat against his face and held on so hard that his knuckles whitened. From the corner of his eye he saw Humlan, only a couple of feet behind Daisy; she was going faster than he'd ever seen a pony move. He would have been impressed had he not feared for his dear life, and decided to focus his every effort on just staying in the saddle.  
  
Ahead of them were Alexander and Wilhelm. They were moving so fast that they appeared to be flying, and Daniel understood what they meant by Thoroughbreds being in a class of their own when it came to speed. Alexander was bent low over Wilhelm's neck, standing very low on the stir-ups, and despite his precarious pose he remained perfectly still, Wilhelm's gait so smooth that his back barely moved. They could have been one entity for how seamlessly they worked together, and Daniel felt a twinge of excitement all of a sudden.  
  
“Go girl, show them,” he told Daisy in hushed tones and leaned forwards, loosening her reins so that she could extend her neck further. She obliged and, mimicking Alexander, Daniel caressed her neck in an encouraging gesture and smacked his tongue. Daisy sped up at once and soon they were neck and neck with Alexander and Wilhelm. Daniel glanced at Alexander and smirked when he saw the other man's bewildered look. Without waiting for a response he nudged Daisy with his heels and the mare shot past Wilhelm.  
  
She was enjoying the race, Daniel understood with a jolt, at least as much as he was. The mare's ears moved back and forth as she listened to Wilhelm's approach, and though her gallop wasn't anywhere near as smooth as the Thoroughbred's, Daniel loved every second of it. Sweat was poring down his forehead, and by the time they reached the edge of the forest both he and Daisy were breathing heavily. They slowed down to a walk and Alexander and Wilhelm caught up with them.  
  
Daniel turned Daisy around, laughing out loud. Alexander finally met his eye and the look on his face made him laugh even harder, breathless though he was.  
  
“For an old working horse she sure can run,” Daniel said, smiling, and clapped Daisy's neck.  
  
“I saw,” Alexander said. To Daniel's surprise he returned the smile. “It's been a while since Wilhelm's had to make an effort to catch up to another horse.”  
  
“You could have just asked if you wanted to have a race.”  
  
Alexander shook his head, but there was an amused twinkle in his eye all the same. Daniel realised he'd never seen that look on his face before.  
  
“I wasn't planning anything, but I don't turn down the chance for a friendly competition if the occasion presents itself.”  
  
Hazel and Humlan caught up with them, both of them rather breathless as well. Hazel was grinning broadly, and to Daniel's relief her breathing wasn't laboured – at least no more than his or Alexander's.  
  
“That was amazing,” she exclaimed, looking at the both of them. “Danny, you've missed your calling as a jockey!”  
  
He laughed. “I'll look into it if archaeology starts to bore me.”  
  
“We'd best keep going,” Alexander said. “In a light trot, I might add, or we won't be going anywhere tomorrow.”  
  
“No more racing? That's a shame,” Hazel replied. Her words were followed by Humlan audibly scoffing and tossing her head as though in protest.  
  


* * *

  
Three in the afternoon they had finished setting up a camp next to an old, abandoned farm house with a caved-in roof. There was a small barn next to it that Alexander had investigated thoroughly – the house itself was so mold-eaten that it was a miracle its walls still stood, but the barn had withstood the test of time better. Its doors had fallen off their hinges long ago, but the stalls were still in good condition, and they lead the horses indoors. Alexander and Daniel took turns to fetch water from the river for the horses' water trough (which Alexander had found in the barn) while Hazel gathered as much grass as she could find, using a half-rusted sickle from the barn.  
  
Daniel started unpacking their bags after he finished setting up a firepit. It wasn't perhaps the most expertly set up firepit in the history of camping, but he'd seen Alexander do it so many times that he understood the basics. He reached into the bag, hand pausing as he touched one of Hazel's tonic bottles. He held it in his hand for a moment before decisively putting it back.  
  
“Hazel? Where are you?” Daniel called.  
  
“Behind the building,” came her answer. “What do you need?”  
  
“I could use some firewood.”  
  
She appeared around the corner, carrying a bucket of yellowed grass. Her face was red and sweaty, her dress smudged, but she looked cheerier than Daniel had seen her be in a while. “I'll just feed Humlan and the others first.”  
  
“Take your time.”  
  
While she vanished in the barn, Daniel started erecting their tents. This was something where he felt more at ease. The excavations he'd accompanied professor Herbert to had taught him enough about the jungle of ropes and poles that was tent-building. At night he still sometimes thought he could smell sand and the cold, dry desert nights in the canvas above his head, and a part of him thought longingly of Africa. They had meant to go to Algeria this year, not Sweden, but it was money that made these decisions for them, not professional intrigue.  
  
He set up Hazel's tent underneath a large spruce whose lowest branches made the perfect canopy to shield her from rain or snow. He got her quilts and a pillow ready and folded for her, pausing over each item as he unpacked her belongings. A new, clean dress and petticoat. Dry socks and undergarments (discreetly wrapped in a sheet, but he looked away regardless before slipping the bundle under her pillow). He made sure her tonic was properly corked and set it right by her pillow with a clean handkerchief.  
  
He started at the loud _thunk_ that sounded like something being beaten with a heavy object. The sound repeated a few seconds later. He closed Hazel's bag and left it in the tent, then got up. The sound got louder as he approached the barn. The horses didn't act like anything was off. Daisy even neighed at the sight of him before going back to eating.  
  
“Hazel?”  
  
The sound repeated again. It was coming from his left. He walked to the other end of the barn and found Hazel chopping firewood with an axe in hand. There were old, cracked logs stacked against the back wall, with moss growing on the top layer. A large piece of wood that appeared to be a section from a tree trunk was acting as a wood-cutting surface. Hazel glanced at Daniel, smirking, but didn't pause as she lifted the axe and cut a log in two. The pieces fell on the floor, joining the pile of ready-cut logs.  
  
“What on earth are you doing?” Daniel asked.  
  
“Isn't that obvious?”  
  
“That's dangerous,” he sputtered. “Give me the axe!”  
  
“Relax. I'm managing just fine.”  
  
“You could hurt yourself!”  
  
“So could you.”  
  
She grabbed another log from the pile and cut it in half expertly with one clean swing of the axe, making Daniel wince.  
  
“Hazel,” he said, exasperated. “You don't understand. It's not—“  
  
“It's not _what_?” she snapped.  
  
Daniel opened his mouth, then hesitated. He wanted to say 'unbecoming of a lady', but the deeply and stubbornly English part of his subconscious that was always analysing the propriety of things at any given moment had discovered something new in the past weeks: self-doubt. Propriety had been an integral part of his mentality up until recently, to the point where it had often seriously clouded his honest judgment, and the space it had vacated was now very rapidly being filled with common sense.  
  
And this was what his awakened common sense was telling him: his sister, whom he and his parents had spent her whole life sheltering from threats real and imagined, was no longer having any of it. All this was punctuated by the fact that she was also holding a sharp object that she obviously knew how to use.  
  
Daniel managed to hitch a smile on his face, though he kept his eyes firmly on the axe. “Nothing. I think we've enough firewood to last us until tomorrow, thanks to your efforts. Come help me get the dinner started?”  
  
She sighed, but put down the axe. “Sure. I'm starting to get hungry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of this fic can be explained by the fact that I was a horse girl growing up, and still am, though I haven't had the chance to ride or be around horses for many, many years. Something I'm hoping to fix once life goes back to normal and we can all start having such decadent things as hobbies again. So in the meantime Hazel and Daniel get to be the horse kids of this joint.
> 
> I'm taking my traditional mid-fic break here to rest my mind and destress a bit, so I'll see you all in April! Thanks for all the support so far, it's been nice to see how much love this little story has gotten. <3 Take care and see y'all soon!


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